Will be Done
by Exilo
Summary: Not all monsters have fur and teeth. Not all justice is carried out in a court by a jury. No war is holy, and no cruelty is justifiable. The lives that are taken, can never be returned. Finished. Sequel to Kingdom Come, SfD, and VVV.
1. Chapter 1

_Chapter 1_

"Mommy!"

The wail echoed through the thin walls of the two story, ranch style home. It served as the wake-up alarm better than her clock ever could, because her clock had a snooze button. She had tried poking Eva in the nose, but that never stopped her. Nicole Kimber sighed, opening her eyes and licking away the sleepy drool that lined her lips. Deeper than usual for her, she must have been tired after her most recent tour.

"Aunt Nicole," Eva said, standing at the foot of her bed. "Tiny hurt himself."

"Nicole sat up. "How did he manage that?"

"He smashed his arm into my fist," Eva said in the innocent way only a little deviant could muster.

"Mommy!" Tiny screamed, coming into the room.

"I told him to stop touching me," Eva said simply.

"And I didn't touch her!" Tiny shouted.

"Then it wasn't worth it, now was it?" Nicole said, standing up and climbing out of the bed. "Where's Nic?"

"Tiny, go let your brother out of the laundry hamper."

"He's not my brother," Tiny snapped, but seeing the glare in his mother's eyes, went to go fulfill his orders, like a good little soldier.

About an hour later, Nicole was showered and dressed in jeans and a tanktop, though stayed barefooted in her own home. She was cooking breakfaster, scrambled eggs and bacon, when she heard the familiar chorus of screams and shouts.

Nicole took a deep breath. "Tiny stop holding your finger an inch from Eva and saying you're not touching her. Eva lighten up, he's just teasing. Nic, its been in your mouth for over half an hour, spit it out."

But there was still a gentle sob.

Eva was ten now, larger than either the two boys, and had a streak of aggression that reminded Nicole of a Jiralhanae. She was almost the same size as Nicole. Nic was nine, only a bit smaller than Eva, but a shy and quiet little thing. She thanked god daily he wasn't a trouble maker like his sister. Tiny was only five, and had the misfortune of taking after his mother. He was small, and weak. But he could be vicious when he had to be, not unlike his mother. That's why Eva was the one crying.

"What did you say?" Nicole asked. She lowered to her knee. "Timothy Gregory Kimber, what did you say to her?"

"The truth," he huffed.

"What did you say?" Nicole asked again.

It took a moment for Tiny to realize how deeply he had sunk, but he finally said, "I said her parents are dead."

"Go to your room," she said standing.

Tiny knew better than to argue with his mother and, head held low, left.

"He right," Eva said, swallowing tears. "You say always tell the truth."

"I do, don't I?"

"They're both dead."

Only ten, and she understood one of life's cruel lessons. Nicole reached over and hugged Eva. "I know."

"Why couldn't dad stay? He promised," Eva cried, wetting Nicole's shirt with salty tears. "He promised." Eva screamed, pounding forward, and accidentally hitting Nicole in the left eye. Nicole stumbled back, holding the orbital bone. "Why?" Eva whimpered, holding her head.

"Because he loved you. And he wanted to be sure you were safe."

Nicole always told her children to tell the truth, no matter the situation. And yet, how many times did she lie?

She let Tiny out of his room to come have breakfast, and sat the three children down. "You have to stop this," she said. "I don't get to spend that much time here, I don't want you three fighting all the time, alright?"

"I don't fight," Nic said, lifting his hand as if he were at school. He got a firm punch to the arm.

"Eva," Nicole said sharply. "You think that because you're not my blood, I don't love you. And Tiny, you think that because I _chose _Eva and Nic, for some reason I love them more. But its not true, alright. I love all of you. I love you all so much, and when I'm here, I want you all to get along, alright?"

They nodded, eventually. The trio of children got up from their chairs and circled the table, hugging her tightly. She made sure to hug each back in turn. "Please, for mommy's sake, get along. You've known each other since you were born. You are brothers and sister."

"Alright," they said in unison.

She broke the embrace. "Now, go out and spread love and joy together."

Nicole didn't particularly feel safe in her house. She had defenses and precautions, a pistol under her pillow, alarms at the window, camera and emergency lines, but they were all fallible. But the kids liked the backyard, so that was that. She was washing the morning dishes and pan when her sister wandered down from the upstairs, yawning and still in her nightgown.

"You missed breakfast," Nicole said.

"Lucy, her sister, belched in a very unfeminine manner. Nicole thought of an Unggoy. "Fine, make me a sandwich."

Nicole wasn't in the mood. "Do the kids always fight like this when I'm not here?"

"No. They never fight. They want your attention Nicole. You aren't here enough. Working with the Elites."

"Sangheili," she corrected. "They're Sangheili."

Lucy growled like a Kig-Yar. "Look at you," she snapped. She had served in the Navy as well, but got out as soon as she could. She had received basic training, while Nicole got special ops. Lucy was bigger than her sister by about eight inches and thirty pounds. Nicole could probably take her. "The war took away Tim. You're all those kids have left."

"Wars over, and the Jiralhanae can't do anything. No risk involved, I just stay in for the benefits."

"A glitch in the system killed Greg. That's why you're stuck with Eva and Nic. What if that happens to you? I'm not taking care of your children if your ship flies into the sun by accident."

"I could get killed walking down the street. Que sera, sera."

Lucy snarled like a Sangheili. She imagined Orff clicking his mandibles in displeasure, which he always did but refused to admit. A whiffle ball broke through the kitchen window and flew through the space between the two. "Sorry," Tiny shouted from outside.

Come nightfall, Nicole tucked the children in. Lucy went to sleep sometime after midnight. Nicole stayed up, in the living room, reading, so she was the only one to hear the knock at the door. Without really thinking, she walked over and opened the door o be greeted by two burly men in suits. For a moment, she remembered that cold winter day. She thought of when she got the news about Timothy, but, who could they tell her died this time? There was no one left.

"Lieutenant Nicole Kimber?" one asked.

"Yes," she said.

The one who had spoken took identifications out of his coat. "I'm Agent Francis and this is Agent Stevenson."

"You must be the men in black," she said, a little tired and buzzed from the wine she had been sipping. "The house next door is the one bought by the Unggoy immigrant." She looked down at the badge he was still holding out, and couldn't find anything suspicious.

"You have to come with us. You're in extreme danger ma'am."

She nodded, understanding. She had been dreading a day like this for forever. "Let me get the kids."

Francis put a hand on her shoulder. "Another car is on its way. We have no reason to believe they are being targeted. Trust me, the farther away they are from you, the better."

She nodded. The car was a civilian model Warthog. The two took the front seats leaving Kimber's small frame in the huge back seat. Comical actually, her sitting there. She didn't like it.

"What's this about?" she asked, leaning her head against the door. She was tired.

"We don't know ma'am. Just ordered to pick you up."

"But you said I am in danger. I mean, that's nothing new for me, but usually I can see the pissed off Jiralhanae charging after me."

"Classified ma'am. We don't know. We just know to pick you up."

Nicole sighed, letting her eyes close, then pop back open. The seat belt was annoying her. She could sleep almost anywhere, but still. And they were speeding fast. It was a bumpy ride. She was getting thrown around. If the streets weren't empty for the twilight hours, they would have hit some one by now. Instead, someone hit them. Despite the Warthog's size, a side impact by a garbage truck was enough to send it spinning into a wall. Nicole was thrown around worse than any potholes and speed bumps could ever do. She smashed against the walls and the back and the front seat. She flew and smashed, opening gashes on her arm and bruises under the skin. Her head broke against the glass. The seatbelt kept her grounded in the seat at least. The two, Francis and Stevenson, weren't as lucky. Francis probably had a fractured skull from smashing into the dashboard. He was groaning and sighing. Stevenson's seat was empty. He had gone through the windshield was presently a dozen feet away.

Groaning in pain and barely clinging to consciousness, through blurry eyes she saw a hulking form push something long and shadowed to Stevenson's head. Stevenson's head bobbed at the poke, but he didn't wake. The hulk moved on. She put her head down. The blood was getting her eyes.

The opposite door to the one she was leaned on wretched and pulled away. The cool twilight breeze washed inside. The streets lights shine was bloated out as the hulk climbed in after her. Large hands grabbed the seatbelt and yanked it apart. Then the long fingers grabbed her around the chest. Her ribs must have been broken. The fingers felt no resistance, and she could have sworn she felt her heart start to pop. Apparently sensing this, the grip loosened, and pulled her into the open, into the street lights. Her head bobbed loosely (how had her neck not snapped), but her eyes focused.

"Orff?" she asked.

Orff cradled her as he carried her tightly to the garbage truck, and loaded her into the passenger side. "Orff," she called out, but he shut the door. His form glowed in the headlights as he walked across the trucks front and climbed into the driver's seats. "Orff, what the hell is going on?"

The Sangheili began to drive. "We received word that you would be kidnapped."

"By who?" she asked. Everything hurt. She tasted blood. She couldn't breathe. "Cause those guys," she paused. "Those men you murdered, they were legitimate."

"There is a duffle bag at your feet. Armor and weapons."

She bent for it. A mistake. Her chest felt like mush that was going to slide out between her legs. She stumbled back, crying and screaming. Orff said nothing, didn't even pay attention to her. After a few very careful heaves, she pushed managed to reach down and grab the bag. She picked it up, arm aching. She couldn't dress in the armor, but the pistol, a human model, .22 caliber. She tucked it into her pants. "What about my kids?"

"They are safe. They will be taken to Cairo Station."

"Will they be safe?"

"Do you trust your lord?"

She heaved again. "Orff, I need to go to a hospital."

"First we get you to _Shadow the Intent_."

"Orff," she breathed. "I need a doctor." She pulled her legs up and started to cry, holding her insides.

They spent the rest of the ride to the Phantom drop ship in a dense painful silence. Nicole kept begging him to stop, but he refused either with a stiff single word or just silence. Orff carried her into the Phantom quickly, running up the ramp and aboard the drop ship and setting her down in a seat. He ordered the pilot to take off.. The Phantom lurched as it rose through the air, sending a painful shock through her body. "Orff, what is happening?" she demanded.

The Phantom glided into the _Shadow of Intent's_ hangar. Orff ordered her out. She stood painfully, and stumbled, keeping herself up right with the seats and grab bars. She stumbled out into the blinding light of the hangar. Her visions took an agonizing time, adjusting to the lights. When she could finally see, she was greeted by no less than a dozen plasma rifles and carbines, their Sangheili wielders hulking and breathing heavy. Glinting energy swords ignited and humming loudly in the otherwise silent air. Fearful, she turned back to Orff, begging him for some explanation.

"You are under arrest for the murder of Sub-Commander of Special Operations Prin Vadum," he said. "Come quietly, don't make me hurt you."


	2. Chapter 2

**Uck, so sorry about the prior chapter. I went over this one a little more intensely, and I can only hope that I got everything. Enjoy.**

_Chapter 2_

She was shackled with energy chains at her hands and feet, and stripped of her clothes and weapons. Nude, she was dragged through the hallways of the ship. Orff was her keeper, tight fingers at her throat. She couldn't keep up with his long strides, and so she was more or less dragged along, bare feet kicking for a grip. Tears were in her eyes as she tried to hide her exposed chest and keep the wind from batting her skin and hurting her aching bones.

"Orff," she said, clawing at his hand. "I can walk fine." His grip tightened and she started to choke, and he lifted her off the ground to simply carry her like she was the spoils of a battle. She hadn't spent enough time on the ship to learn the layout, but she was sure he was bringing her to the jail. The airlock seemed unlikely, if she was to die she would already be dead. Sure enough, soon enough, she found herself standing in front of the crimson barrier of a cell's fourth wall.

Orff touched the controls, and the fourth wall shriveled and disappeared. A firm knee to her bare rump and caused Nicole to stumble into the cell, and her legs decided right then to give way. She landed with a splat that made her scream and pant hard. The pain, the ache of her bones and muscle. Why wasn't she dead by now? "Fuck," she muttered. "Oh god," she said, holding her chest.

There was a snort and growl. Nicole looked deeper into the cell, where she hadn't before. "Oh god," she muttered. She turned on her hands and knees, trying to crawl away, but stopped before the erected fourth wall would have burned her. "Oh god, oh god, oh god." Her chant as loud as the deafening footsteps of the Jiralhanae as he came strolling over. Maybe it was cowardice, but she didn't want to see her death coming. She simply closed her eyes.

She felt firm hands around her ribs, and her stomach lurched as she was picked up. The world spun, and when her vision settled, she was face to massive, furry face. Nostrils opened, and there was a heavy gust. The Jiralhanae sniffed deeply, strands of her hair slipping into the nostrils. She tried to push him away, pushing against him with all her might. To her surprise, he set her down and returned to his corner.

"L-lazarus?" she asked. Suddenly she took note of the crème colored pelt the Jiralhanae wore, and this being Lazarus was about the only reason she could figure for him sparing her like that. He did look different, actually, and if his fur wasn't so distinct, she wouldn't have recognized his body. The fur longer. Beneath it, his skin looser, most apparent on his arms, but his chest and back sort of sagged as he shuffled along and sat down.

"What?" he growled.

She covered herself with her hands, and bounced from foot to foot. Why was it so cold? "Where are my clothes?" Actually, that was about the only thing she could think to ask at the moment.

"I ate them," he mocked. "Are all humans this stupid. You are a prisoner. They don't allow prisoners such a luxury. I haven't my armor."

The cold actually made her forget her agonizing pain. It numbed her to the point she didn't feel anything save the icy burn. She bounced from foot to foot, trying to keep her feet intact. Lazarus seemed to be enjoying it. His fur and what fat and muscle he still had must have kept him warm, or he just didn't show his discomfort like she did.

She took a step closer. "They know I killed Prin. I must have left a fingerprint or hair. My own fault. I should have been more careful."

"Thank you for avenging Ameday," Lazarus said. "I am sorry that Sangheili corruption has imprisoned you like this."

She underestimated his reach as she shivered. She thought she was safe, but he reached forward and grabbed her. The next thing she knew, her face was smothered in the crème colored fur of his left pectoral muscle. She struggled and mumbled, and to her surprise, he released her again.

"You will be frozen within an hour, weak bodied as you are. I can keep you warm," Lazarus said.

She pushed back, but her wounded legs gave way under her. "Fuck it, I would rather die."

Lazarus reached for her again, kicking and screaming. "Just pretend I'm a fur coat. It will be true once the Sangheili tire of keeping me caged." He snorted, breathing over her with his warm, foul breath. "I owe you a debt, anyway."

Her whole body quaked, out of spite and cold. "Fine," she spat. She stopped resisting and moved with him, into his chest and warm embrace. He was warm. And surprisingly soft, which at least meant that she didn't hurt herself pressing against him. "It's like petting a dog," she muttered under her breath, eyes wet. "Like petting a dog."

Lazarus wrapped his arms around her and squeezed her gently. If she didn't know any better, she would say he was cuddling. She fell asleep like that. Underneath the fur there was rocky muscle and bone. Like sleeping on a feather mattress resting on bowling balls. And the smell wasn't pleasant. Dense and hard as its wearer. Despite the lavatory, she doubted Lazarus was the kind to spend much time grooming. But it was warm, and his fur was at least softer than the floor. His heart beats (or hearts' beats, she wasn't sure) were rhythmic. And she was exhausted, physically and mentally. She was broken from the crash. And sore. She could have very well died in her sleep.

She woke when he shook her, forceful enough her neck nearly broke. Nicole's first instinct upon waking was to push away, but finding resistance, she cocked a fist back and punched forward as hard as she could. Her knuckles hit his chest. Lazarus lifted his own hand to brain her, but he caught himself. He was still propped against the wall, sitting, with his legs folded and her in his lap. Their chests were together. Well, actually, her whole face, shoulders, arms, torso, hips and thighs were against his massive chest. That was the only word, massive. A hand was on her back, and another on her flank, holding her against him. By now, the pain had stopped throbbing and she was instead just sore. She must have bleed out of her mouth, because Lazarus' fur was stained. She heard Orff's voice.

"Is she alive, brother?" Orff asked.

She lifted her head from the massive sea of fur and looked over her shoulder to the Sangheili. He was on the right side of the cell, past the crimson. She twisted, and rested on Lazarus, but faced the other way. "Got to hand it to you Orff. You played it real well. Real smooth. You played me, you promised to keep me safe, and I trusted you. And I was bitten for it."

Orff growled under his breath. "Nicole, I need to know, did you murder Prin?"

Nicole didn't answer immediately.

"I've seen the evidence against you, the logic that they present, but I find myself wondering. I know you Nicole, or I thought I did. I need to know from you, is it true?"

"He murdered Ameday," she said. "He broke our word, and because no one else would do anything about it, I did something."

Orff stared, and sighed. "So you murder him in his sleep? A coward's death?"

"You didn't have the balls for it," she snapped, pushing away from Lazarus and standing up. Despite the ugly purple welts on her skin, and the caked blood on her scalp and arms, she managed to stand firm. "So I did it. You know I did the right thing Orff."

Orff opened a hole in the fourth wall, and passed in their breakfast, one ration can for Nicole, and three for Lazarus. Orff left without saying anything else, even though Nicole kept saying his name. Nicole was cold again. She walked back into Lazarus' arms, but he grabbed her and put her aside, leaving her to shiver. He walked over and gathered up his share of the rations, eating them as he walked back to his spot to sit. When he was sitting, she squirmed back into his arms, trying to bury her face in the fur.

"What was I thinking?" she moaned. "Why did I kill Prin?"

Lazarus hesitantly put a hand on her back and let her snuggle closer. "I don't know," Lazarus said. "Why would you dirty your hands for me? You humans have no problem with breaking words. You act in your own interest, never for another. And yet you settled my vengeance."

"We had a deal, Prin broke it."

Lazarus breathed heavily; warm, moist, Brute breath blew down her head and shoulders. She flinched, realizing how close she was to his mouth. The smell of the rations was strong, and all the other food he must have been eating over the year of captivity. His breath, heavy with the additional smell of his fur, it made her think of a dog. That helped a great deal. Imagine she was just sleeping with a dog instead of a Jiralhanae.

"Who did you lose?" he asked.

"Why do you care?"

"Who?" Lazarus asked again. He gave her a little squeeze which brought tears to her eyes. A nudge, a warning, that could have squished her. She was a bug to him. "Where?"

"My fiancé, on Reach."

"I wasn't there, but I know both the Arbiter and the shipmaster were present for that battle, and Orff, and Prin."

"It doesn't matter. Tim doesn't get to rest in peace. I've long accepted that. I've long dealt with it. I don't get to dwell on his death. I don't get to be weak."


	3. Chapter 3

**The fic is done mostly, its just polish and edits. For that reason, I might start boosting up to a biweekly posting schedule: Monday and Wednesday or Thursday. Chapter 4 will be posted soon. After that, we will see what happens.**

_Chapter 3_

She fell asleep again, somehow. Perhaps she just passed out. She was so tired. The pain was agonizing and constant. Biting her. Taunting her. Everything hurt. When she breathed, it felt like glass in her belly. When she looked around it felt like her eyes were being sucked out of her head. Her flowing blood seemed to make her veins ache. But somehow she fell asleep, into a sweet bliss of unconsciousness. She slept deeply without dreams or other thoughts. She could have been dead.

So deep was her sleep she didn't feel her warm, furry blanket underneath her start to stir. Lazarus woke, and felt the nearly weightless body on top of him. He took a moment, taking in the scent he associated with his son's vengeance, just to remind him why she wasn't in his belly.

He held her like a rag doll, her head bobbing loosely on her shoulder as he canted his head to the side, taking careful note of her. She was so badly bruised, her skin was such a deep purple, and her size, one could mistake her as an Unggoy. For the first time, he did notice the caked and dried blood on her scalp, arms, and bare chest.

He brought her up to his mouth and flicked his tongue out between his lips, and dragged the thick appendage from her chest to her scalp. Pulling back, he noticed that now at least most of the caked on blood was gone, but she was covered in drool. He licked her again, and again, enjoying the taste of human. He grabbed her in both hands and started licking her chest and arms clean of blood, then the resulting saliva.

Nicole started to laugh in her sleep at the feel of the bumpy warmth sliding over her bare and sensitive skin, particularly her breasts, but her stomach and her face as well. It was a little sensitive tickling that seemed to soothe her pain. She woke with a frightened yelp like a wounded mutt, and fought and kicked until Lazarus grabbed her, growling. "What are, what are you doing?" she said, still beating at the hand that held her.

"Cleaning you," he said nonchalantly. He pulled her back, pressing her face to his lips before flicking out the tongue and drenching her, savoring the taste. He heard whimpers and muffled screams. Nicole started to cry. "What?" he said. He pulled her back and held her up, snorting heavily out open nostrils.

"You-you're going to eat me," Nicole said. Her eyes were closed tightly, tears running down her cheeks and mixing with the saliva. She was held loose and weak in his hand.

"If I was going to eat you, wouldn't I have done it by now instead of having those disgusting rations?" he growled. He shifted his grip, thumb and forefinger under her arms. He started at her thighs and went up to her nose, taking most of the drool. Nicole still cried. "What?" he growled, holding her close to his eyes.

"You're tasting me," she sobbed. "Then you're going to eat me. You're saving me for later."

Lazarus lowered her down to his belly and wiped her on his fur. "There, happy now?"

Her tiny chest heaved in his hand, filling with air then blowing out, ruffling the fur on his pectoral muscles. "You fucking licked me!" she screamed. Now she was fighting even worse. Punching and kicking at him, screaming lunatic. "What the fuck is wrong with you? You fucking try to eat me!"

Lazarus lowered her, so her lower half was between his legs, and buried her nose in his stomach. She continued screaming, giving a sort of odd vibration on the skin, and he put a hand on the back of her head, keeping her pinned. At least now her screams were muffled a bit. He waited patiently, until she mostly stopped screaming, and realized he might be smothering her, so he eased her head back. She was crying again. Sobbing uncontrollably. Lazarus sat her down in his lap. "Are you better now."

"You're a monster," she said. She was so weak that she just lay her head down, eyes half lidded and starting to lose their color.

Lazarus growled, putting a hand at her rump and pushing her higher, letting her settle just under his chin. She seemed to calm down a bit after a while, though he could still feel her shake.

"You've lost weight," she said, her little hands pitter pattering over his chest.

"They don't feed me as much as they should. Same reason they took your clothing. They want us weak."

She sniffled a bit. "What am I going to do? What if I never get out? What if I'm locked up here, forever? Oh god, what's going to happen to me?"

"You murdered one of their brothers," he said lowly. "Despite its reason, you murdered their brother. If not for Orff, they would have executed you on the spot."

"Orff," she spat, burying her head and sobbing lowly. "Fucking snake. He fucking stabbed me in the back."

"He saved your life," he said, suddenly forceful.

Nicole pushed off him, struggling against the weight of his hand that simply rested on her back. She stared up at him, fire in her eyes. "He lied to me. He tricked me and now I'm here sharing a cell with a goddamn fur coat."

Lazarus grabbed her and shook her. Simply shook her, and it felt like she was going to die. Like her insides were mush and her head was going to break off. "Think for a minute, you stupid bitch. What could he have done? Warned you, told you to run? You would have been hunted down in a night. He can talk to his council, perhaps show you leniency. You needed to be captured for your safety."

Nicole tried to punch him, and technically she did, but her hand nearly broke on his snout. "I'll be dead soon enough," she said, holding herself. "I'm broken. I won't last."

She was hungry. How many days had passed? She looked over to the fourth wall, the single ration can that was meant for her. Swallowing her pain and gorge, she pushed against Lazarus and started stumbling and clawing towards it. Holding her chest, it was a struggle to breathe at all. The skin burned on her bare feet. The air burned her bare skin. She reached the ration, and nearly feel over when she tried to squat to pick it up. There was something else though, something she hadn't noticed at first, pressed flat against the ground. The darkness of Sangheili ships didn't help matters any. A blanket. Orff must have smuggled it in when she was unconscious.

The blanket did help with the coldness, if she kept it tight, but shivers still wore down on her skin. The air she breathed was icy and chilled her core, and no matter how tight she wrapped the blanket, cold air seemed to find a way between the fabric and her skin. She shivered. She looked around for something else that Orff may have brought in, but there was only Lazarus, lying on a mattress on the far wall, trying to sleep. Orff's hearts were in the right place, but he just didn't understand what was really wrong with her. How could he? He was a walking tank. She doubted he had even had a bone broken or a concussion. A splint and wrapping tape would have been better than the blanket. So she used what she had.

She tried ripping the blanket, with her hands, but it was made of a very strong material, or maybe she was just weak. Her teeth proved more effective. Chewing on the center, she managed to make a tear, that very slowly she could work a bit wider, until finally it ripped into two pieces. Tying the cloth around her chest, she managed a bandage. The other piece she used to keep her left arm close to her chest. Her arm was just throbbing. Of course, now she didn't have the warmth of the blanket.

"Lazarus?" she asked, struggling towards him and standing beside his bed.

He rumbled out a snore.

She dropped to her knees and did her best to shake him awake. She was sure he was awake, just mocking her, so she slapped him. He opened his eyes, growling at her.

"Move over," she said, trying to sound firm. That made him laugh. "Lazarus, please, I'm going to die otherwise. It's too cold."

He didn't open his arms or move over on the rather large mattress. She finally threw the blanket away and squeezed between his arms, pressing close to his large chest. She crawled into a fetal position, knees pulled close to protect her chest from the anything. She felt Lazarus stretch an arm over her, and pulled her closely to his chest. His warm fluffy chest. She settled closer, breathing heavy. He pulled his knees up, his thighs at the soles of her feet, which felt quite good after how painful the floor was to walk on. His chin down and her nose buried in the center of his neck. But it was hard to breath with the thickness of fur, so she turned her head up. She heard his pulse throbbing, pushed apparently to the Jiralhanae equivalent of a jugular vein.

"You seem to be enjoying this," she mocked.

"You remind me of a pet I had when I was younger." She didn't hear his voice. She felt it quake through her whole body.

"You do too. My old dog, when I was younger. Nothing but a big, breathing, heated cushion. All you are." She yawned.

That was a lie. Just a lie to save face. Her positions, a teddy bear to the bigger party. She liked the feeling of helplessness. The release from responsibility. She liked the warmth. And that feeling of safeness. Because truth be told, she did feel safe. He could crush her, but he had restrained himself mostly, something Sangheili and even her fellow human didn't even always do. Somewhere, somehow, deep down, she remembered Timothy.

"Lazarus," she said weakly, but said nothing after that.


	4. Chapter 4

_Chapter 4_

"Shipmaster, I must voice my concerns in the matter."

Rtas clicked his mandibles in frustration. Orff was a zealous one. When given a course of action, he worked that course to the ends of the world, following it, dedicating himself to it, sacrificing himself for it. A perfect warrior. If he were doing that in the war, he would be regarded as a hero. But now he sought to save a human traitor, and that could not be passed over lightly.

"She murdered Prin," Rtas said. "She murdered him without honor. He died without honor. And still you defend her? That worthless whelp?"

"If Prin had murdered a brother, and she settled the deceased vengeance, would you condemn her?"

Rtas stared long and hard at Orff. "Prin didn't murder a brother, despite how you chose to distort reality. Prin put down an animal." He growled loudly. "I once thought that peace could be woven. Our affairs with the humans have been enlightening. Creature that for so long we believed to be heretics now share our table. I thought, perhaps, the Jiralhanae were not the monsters that we had so long believed them to be. I was wrong. Still they fight us endlessly. Still they burn our ships and our colonies, and refuse to yield even when offered the chance. It is now clear to me that they must be put down, without hesitance or remorse, for the good of our kind. Prin was not a monster, he was doing what I should have done myself."

Orff snarled, storming out of the bridge. Rtas watched him, and continued staring at the closed door, until one of the crew called his attention. "Shipmaster, we are receiving a distress signal."

Rtas moved the captain's chair. "What ship?"

"The _Unending Devotion. _A human frigate, registered to a Kig-Yar merchant. They are requesting a transmission sir."

Rtas waved a hand, and the screen shivered to show a Kig-yar. The lack of feathers, replaced by plates? A head crest? A female? Odd, but not unheard of. "Hail, Kig-Yar, I am Shipmaster Rtas Vadum, commander of the _Shadow of Intent_."

There was a trail of smoke emerging from a small, paper stick held tightly between the avian's beak. Rtas focused on it a moment. A cigarette? Something the humans were fond of. Sergeant Johnson called his a cigar, though Rtas never understood the difference save the size. "I know who you are, that mutilated face of yours is pretty distinguishing. Chur-R-Tays," the Kig-Yar said. "Finally, I've been stuck out here for a blasted cycle!"

Rtas clicked his mandibles, staring at the screen with the Kig-Yar on it. "What were you doing out here?"

"Shipment to some human colony. Good money. Money that was going to repair this old piece of crap." Rtas assumed she was referring to the ship. "But no, they wouldn't give me the money up front. Damn engines blew, so I've been stuck out here. Goddamn humans. You know what I mean, Rtas?"

Rtas stared at the Kig-Yar in annoyance. Pompous little creature. Little whelp. They never had any respect at all for their betters. Rtas cut the feed to the ship. "Bring the ship in," Rtas ordered. "Have our Huragok waiting at the airlock to board their ship."

"Yes shipmaster."

Rtas stood, snarling. "Have our warriors at the air lock as well, if the Kig-Yar does anything stupid, rip her head off." Something about this didn't seem right, but he was more concerned with Orff, and went over to the major's personal quarters. He rapped on the door, mostly a formality, before entering. "Brother?" he asked.

Orff was sitting at his bed, staring at the wall, passive and calm. It would be uncommon for a Sangheili with as low a rank as his to have a private room, but there were none on the ship would share his quarters.

Rtas sighed. "You disagree with my decision. You are angry that I ordered you to retrieve Nicole."

"And now she is locked in a cell, perhaps forever. For Prin?"

"Yes," Rtas snapped. "For Prin. For Prin, our brother, who was murdered."

Orff snarled, stood, and pushed the shipmaster away. "Lazarus was more of a brother than any others. You, the Arbiter, Prin, my house, my family. I was disowned. My brother and sisters shunned me because I stood with the Jiralhanae. Through conflict and Journey, even after the Schism, Lazarus was my brother. And I betrayed him. I allowed him to be caught. I've allowed him to be shackled and caged like a beast."

"He _is_ a beast. I was blinded. I thought we could weave peace, that a treaty could be built, just as we have done with the humans. I was wrong. They don't want peace. They don't want to stop the fighting. They want to fight, and fight. The only way they will ever stop fighting is when they are all dead."

"And you will kill them all?" Orff snarled. They were close to each other, almost intimate.

Rtas turned to leave first. "I'm discharging you, Orff, until you can decide where your loyalties lie. We will drop you at Sangheilos."

Orff stared. "Nicole?"

"She will stand trial for her crime at Sangheilos."

"She will be executed."

"If that is what is decided. It is out of my hands. She committed a crime, she will be held accountable by Prin's house. You will not interfere. You are not to leave these quarters." He turned his back, but heard a subtle sound of a fist cutting through the air, and twisted and ducked suddenly, as Orff's punched. Instead of caving Rtas' skull, he made a large dent in the door. Rtas twisted, and hooked a punch into Orff's chest. His knuckles broke through the armor plating of the thoracic cage and reduced Orff to his hands and knees, gasping for breath.

"You are strong, brother," Rtas said. "And an excellent fighter, but do not try my patience."

Orff swung his forearm up between Rtas' thighs. Rtas caught his arm and twisted it, then stomped his hand under a foot. Orff screamed in pain, and punched at the leg that held him, but Rtas simply lifted his foot and stepped to the side. "Cowardly tactics, dishonorable. The Brutes taught you that? Didn't they?"

Orff growled, leaping forward and catching Rtas by surprise. He smashed Rtas into the wall, using his full girth to carry him, and indeed he managed to stun the shipmaster for a moment. But it was only a moment, and Rtas cracked an elbow into Orff's back. Again, the armor proved too weak. Orff felt the stunning blow and fell to the ground. Rtas simply pushed him aside. "We stretch our hands for peace and they cut them at the wrist. You know that to be true, Orff. You know that what Prin did was the right choice."

Orff's pain was evident by the shakiness as he stood, and the looseness in his stance, and the tightness of his mandibles. He swung madly, trying to get his fist into Rtas's wounded jaw. Rtas leaned back to avoid the blow, took hold of the outstretched arm and threw Orff into the wall. Orff kicked and snarled and bit, but Rtas had superior strength and leverage. Perhaps Rtas would have killed him, he went as far as placing his free hand under Orff's chin, but Rtas' radio sparked to life. As if breaking a trance, Rtas threw Orff against the farthest wall. The body smacked it, before slumping to the ground.

Rtas clicked his radio. "Sub-commander? What is it?"

Drel 'Taham wheezed into his radio, so loud that even Orff, groaning at the other end of the room, could hear him. "Brutes, shipmaster. The frigate. It was a trap. It was filled with Brutes. Hundreds of them."

Rtas' mandibles fell agape. "Lock down the air lock."

"Shipmaster, they hit us too hard and quick. We're trying to seal them in the east wing, but…they're getting through the bulkhead."

"Hold them back. That is an order. Ancestors watch over you Drel."

"And you, shipmaster."

The line went dead, from Drel shutting it off or a jamming system or something else. He didn't care. Rtas passed a gaze to Orff, who hadn't moved from his slumped posture in the corner. "Decide where your loyalties stand," he said, before igniting his blade and leaving the room.


	5. Chapter 5

_Chapter 5_

"_Unending Devotion,_ you are secured. Kig-Yar, please make your way to the airlock."

Those were the last words received on the bridge from the team at the ship's airlock, waiting patiently for the Kig-Yar to come and meet them for her screening. The name was run briefly through some systems, and it proved legitmate. The Kig-Yar shipmistress had no significant crimes against the Sangheili since the end of the Schism, when the Kig-Yar were given ammnesty in exchange for a peaceful surrender and aid in reconstruction. They were thought of as vile, loathsome creatures, but far from dangerous, and so the Sangheili felt they had nothing to fear from Chur-R-Tays.

She came into the ship first, through the airlock, puffing heavily on her cigarette and glaring annoyed at the Sangheili guards. "What?" she demanded, puffing on her cigarettes furiously, leaving a cloud of smoke to rise to the room's roof.

The lead of this small group, a major, lifted his hand to lower the guard's aim. His squad snorted and growled, before lowering their plasma rifle and carbines, though most were completely focused on the Kig-Yar. It was the glint of blue that dragged their attention away. A smalle blue sphere that arched over the Kig-Yar's head and planted itself brilliantly on the major's red thoratic chest plate. Then another blue glow, another blue stick on his helmet. Two more, one hitting his knee and the other bouncing behind him. He barely had time to scream before there was a brilliant flash and rain of purple chunks that pelted the guards. Those guards lifted their hands to cover their face and ducked behind cover to avoid pieces of their superior as well as any additional grenades. A moment later, they popped back out.

The first Sangheili to emerge from cover was met with a flurry of orange spikes, then trampled under the feet of a charging Jiralhanae. There were roars and swipes as the other Sangheili were swiftly overwhelmed. It was a brutal, but short, fight. The clunky handling of rifles quickly yielded to Energy Swords and Spiker blades. By numbers, surprise, and a reckless abandon for their own safety, the Jiralhanae killed the Sangheili in the airlock. "On to the bridge," said the Jiralhanae with black fur, the leader by his armor.

---

For the third time, Nicole woke up with her head buried in the coarse fur of Lazarus' chest. She had been having nightmares, and the her fur bedding was drenched with sweat and tears. But at least in sleep her terrors were overwhelming and hard to understand. But when she woke she nearly broke down, as those same fears were suddenly crystal clear. Her children, her home. Would she ever see them again? Would they even find out what happened to her?

"I told you not to cry," Lazarus growled.

She pushed out of his hold, away from his massive, furry chest, but there was that coldness again. She tolerated it, for now. "When you found out about Ameday," she asked. "Did you cry?"

"No. The Sangheili have taken my brothers, my mate, my sons and daughters. What is one more? Did Orff kill your son? I wouldn't think he had it in him."

"What do you mean? Why would he?"

"In Sangheili culture, a crime of one is a crime of the whole Keep. They murder or exile the family."

Lazarus was taken by surprise when she squealed suddenly, and lifted his arm, mistakenly believing he had hurt her. "Oh god!" she said. "Oh god! Oh god! What have I done?" He didn't stop her when she cried into his chest. She just sobbed, like she was broken. A few minutes later she stopped just as suddenly. Sniffling she whipped her nose on his chest and instead just started babbling lowly to herself. He pushed in to him, and clung to his fur and continued crying lowly. It was annoying actually, that noise she was making. He wanted her to stop.

After yet another length of time, she finally stopped for what seemed to be the last time. Again, she wiped her nose on his chest. Her tiny chest heaved in and out.

Lazarus' stomach rumbled, and by how close she was to it, she felt it vibrate through her entire body. "Uh…Laz, are you alright?"

"Just hungry," he said.

She tried not to let that bother her, thinking about how revolting the rations were, how few he got, and how delicious she was probably looking right about now. "We should be getting our meal soon enough."

More waiting. She was getting used to the endless hours ticking by, but it was so boring. Maybe she would ask Orff for a deck of cards. She could teach Lazarus to play Go Fish. She could hear the door to the brig open, it was loud and whirred as if to give the prisoners a warning to stop doing anything they shouldn't be. She didn't bother looking up or opening her eyes. If it was Orff, he would talk. If it was someone else, she didn't want to face them. Beneath her, Lazarus started to laugh. She scooted away and twisted, so she could see forward. "Neks?" she asked.

Neks Zanzber was the Sangheili minor who generally served as her prison keeper and guard, making sure that no Sangheili attempted to murder Lazarus or she. He didn't like her, or the position he had been given, but he was a good soldier who followed orders. He brought her the rations when Orff couldn't. The minimum of what he could do, but no additional hostility either. Now he was standing in front of the fourth wall, with a hulking Jiralhanae standing behind. It took her a moment to realize, she thought her eyes were playing tricks. The oddest thing was that Neks was calm, typing the appropriate code into the cell to lower the fourth wall. It evaporated away, a moment before the Jiralhanae lifted a small hammer and brought it down, crushing the Sangheili's head, popping it, bits of brain splashing as far as Nicole's feet, which made her wretch.

Lazarus threw her aside onto the bed and stood, walking out of the cell and approaching the new Jiralhanae. "Brother," he said happily, and the two hulking titans embraced.

"Thank the Forerunners that you have not been harmed," the second Jiralhanae said. "Or at least not dead. Brother, what have they done to you? You look horrible." He looked to Nicole, who, very slowly, was approaching Lazarus. How she managed not to scream when the second Jiralhanae lifted his Mauler in her direction, she would never know. Maybe it was shock, maybe she just didn't fear death.

"No," Lazarus said sharply, pushing the Mauler's aim away. He looked to her, grinning cruelly. "This one is my pet."

---

"Close the door. Close the door!" Drel shouted. When the last of the Sangheili were safe inside the next wing, he put his hand on the scanner. In the event of a breach, the various levels of the _Intent_ could be sealed off to prevent a loss of oxygen and compression aboard the rest of the ship. Following the dealings with the Flood, that precaution was modified. The recesses of space weren't the only breach that they had to worry about. Simulations said the parasites could be stopped, contained, and then destroyed. The codes for the lockdown were designed to randomize after the door was locked, to prevent the assimilated minds of fallen brothers to opening them. They were thick enough to stop the barbaric fists of the Flood, pummeling against. The Sangheili would be forgiven to believe that these precautions would stop the Jiralhanae.

"Sub-commander," Rtas said, coming into the room. "What is happening? Ancestors, we are two rooms from the bridge. If they take the bridge then they take the ship."

Drel panted a moment, catching his breath. There was already a pounding against the blast door. It was the Gravity Hammers. The doors wouldn't break, but hit enough and the frame of the door would start to bend.

"Shipmaster," Drel said, standing at attention. "The Brutes are stronger than we thought. They are breaking through our barricades, beating us back man by man. They are taking ground. They are taking the ship."

Rtas stared at the blast door. Dents were beginning to show in its plating. "How do they have the numbers? How can they manage this?" Rtas' fist clenched. "They can't take the ship."

"Shipmaster?"

"They will not take the ship. Ancestors watch over you Drel, it has been an honor to serve by your side."

Drel nodded. Any moment the Jiralhanae would be upon them, killing them, slaughtering them in a massive swarm of death and blood. And then the ship, the _Shadow of Intent_, the pride of the Sangheili navy would carry the flag of Jiralhanae. That would never happen.

The self-destruct could not be initiated from the bridge. Perhaps it was an admission of weakness, but Sangheili did know that, in certain situations, they could be overwhelmed, and if the enemy took the bridge, they would still need a way to destroy the ship. So the self-destruct could be initiated from a small room, out of the way, a room disguised as a personal quarters. That was where Rtas ran to, despite the pain at leaving his brothers to fight the flood of Jiralhanae, in the hopes of keeping them at bay just long enough for the self-destruct to initiate. A noble, final sacrifice. Reaching the room, Rtas tore the hidden wall away, revealing the palm scanner, that he was quick to put his hand against.

_Self destruct initiated_, _sixty seconds to abort procedure._

A stupid precaution, at the insistence of the Hierarchs, and something that Rtas had never thought to remove. Sixty seconds for the Jiralhanae to burst down the door and overwhelm him and stop the self-destruct. For sixty seconds he would hold this room.

He drew his Plasma rifle and pressed himself flat against the wall, just by the threshold to the doorway, and aimed for where the Brute's head would be. He calmed his breathing, so the sharp ears of the Jiralhanae wouldn't hear him. Calming himself slowly. Like a plague, the Jiralhanae would spread over the ship, hoping to kill anything that drew breath. Inevitably, they would stumble into this room. And if they saw the self-destruct, they might be able to stop it. And this ship would not fall to the Jiralhanae.

He heard footsteps, heavy thumping just on the other side of the wall, and steadied his grip, one eye looking over to the timer. Forty-five seconds. How he wanted to go out and fight alongside his men rather than hide in this room. Hide for a greater good, but still hide. The urge was burning, but he had to stay here and protect this spot. Protect the self-destruction and take as many of the Jiralhanae out as he could. He growled lowly when the footsteps stopped, just outside the door, and held his breath, waiting for the furry head to pop inside.

Instead it was a fist, and it punched its way through the wall he was leaned on, just to the side of his head. The fist opened, and Rtas had an excellent view of the leather palm before it eclipsed his vision, and he felt himself pulled through the wall. He was thrown against the hallway's wall, then grabbed and smashed into the ceiling, before being dropped and hitting on the ground. He reached for his sword, but felt a weight on his left hand. A moment later, the weight grew heavier, and his hand was crushed, and he realized the Jiralhanae had stepped on it. He took a deep breath, waiting for the pain to register, and then he screamed. The Jiralhanae bent and picked him up by the throat, pushing him against the wall, a cruel grin spread across his ugly features. Until Rtas jabbed his thumb into the Jiralhanae's eye, and he was released. He braced himself, and pushed forward, driving the Jiralhanae.

There was a smashing pain on his spine and he hit the ground, groaning in pain and falling to his knees. Another Jiralhanae, how many where there? The first lifted him by the throat again, and pushed him against the wall, and slowly started to choke the life out of him.

"Cascus," said a deep, baritone of a voice. Rtas craned his neck to the side, and saw Lazarus, standing there, freed from his cell. "We need at least this one alive. They set off a distress signal. Their Arbiter will be coming shortly to rescue his pet." Rtas choked and struggled, tears in his eyes. It was so hard to breath, hard to think. His legs were kicking and struggling feebly under him. He couldn't even remember where he had dropped his rifle, and he didn't have the where with all to reach for his blade with his intact hand.

The black furred Jiralhanae snorted. "You're wise brother." He looked back to Rtas. He pulled his hand back, and then thrust forward, smashing Rtas's head into the wall. The armor plating of his skull, as well as the natural durability, couldn't protect him from slipping into unconsciousness. Cascus growled, dropping the shipmaster to the ground. He looked to Lazarus, then to the tiny, nude human who clung to his side like a broken dog. Eyes down and arms over chest in a frightened, pathetic stance. "See if _your_ pet can stop the self-destruct."


	6. Chapter 6

**There was a tad of confusion about Chapter 5, so I threw in one tiny line in the Neks' part to clear things up.**

_Chapter 6_

Nicole was struggling to keep pace with Lazarus, and keep her body covered. Lazarus had practically threw her out of the cell, and she hadn't had the chance to fetch her blanket, nor did he allow her to break away and hunt for her confiscated clothing on her own. All she had was her arms. She didn't like this. Nothing about this. Not just that she was on an enemy ship, with two different enemies, but she didn't know anything. What had happened to the ship, who that Jiralhanae with black fur was and why he seemed so friendly with Lazarus, where was Rtas or Orff. Well, Orff, since hopefully he wouldn't kill her on sight for leaving her cell. And the longer reaching things. What about her family? Where they alright? Would the Sangheili kill them or imprison them, or had Lord Hood's men got to them first.

Well, why not? She scrunched closer to Lazarus, and tugged at his fur. "What's happening?"

Lazarus pushed her away and continued walking. She stumbled a bit from the gentle push, nearly hitting the ground, but braced herself on the wall. Again she covered herself with her arms and moved as quickly as she could. She still hurt from that crash a few nights ago. But by the simply fact that she wasn't dead after all this time probably meant she wouldn't die by her present wounds. But it hurt. It hurt to the point her eyes were watering. It felt like her legs were going to give, which was entirely possible. Sprains and broken bones. Broken ribs that made moving her arms nearly impossible. A heaviness on her lungs that made it hard to breath. Like she was drowning in a desert. It was warmer in the hallways of _the_ _Intent_, but she was still naked, and her feet burned from the coldness of the steel ground.

She followed Lazarus to the bridge, where that Jiralhanae with the black fur was waiting. How seamlessly Jiralhanae had replaced the Sangheili crew. They hadn't even moped the purple blood from the ground and walls, they barely seemed to notice it. She felt sick, feeling a slimy warmth under her bare feet. She wondered about Orff.

"Brother!" Lazarus shouted. He and the black furred Jiralhanae, others called him Cascus she believed, shared an embrace.

All too quickly, Cascus' eyes fell to Nicole, with a look of utter contempt. "Why is she not dead? Or with the others?"

"This one is my pet," Lazarus said. "She isn't a prisoner."

"She is a human."

Lazarus picked her up by the chest and lifted her off the ground. She would have screamed, but he didn't hurt her. At least not squeeze her, but the roughness of his palm did irritate her skin. "She is my pet. Do not concern yourself with her. This one is of no threat." He gave her a shake. "Just look at her. I've had fleas larger than she is."

Cascus snorted, looking to her again. She tried to look submissive, which wasn't actually hard. With her size, just standing there she looked harmless. After Lazarus put her back down, she lowered her eyes and bent her back, slouching to make herself even smaller. That seemed to satisfy Cascus.

"They got a signal out," Cascus said. "And the systems are still locked down from the self-destruct order. Curse the Sangheili."

"Then we are vulnerable out here," Lazarus said.

Nicole smelled smoke. The source was a female Kig-Yar, standing beside the black Jiralhanae. A Kig-Yar? That was certainly strange. Why one would throw in with a pack of Brutes. Its not as if they were still fighting for survival. They weren't true believers or even loyal fighters for Truth. They simply fought for the highest bidders, and Jiralhanae had nothing to offer them. So they were given amnesty. Which brought her back to the question, what was a Kig-Yar doing here?

"Cascus," Lazarus said. "I thank the Forerunners that you braved this ship to free me, but I fear you have damned yourself and the others. This is the Sangheili's flagship. Their pride and joy. They cannot allow this ship to be taken by Jiralhanae. They cannot ever let anyone know that this ship was taken as it has been."

The black Jiralhanae shrugged. "I am shamed to say brother, you were not the reason we took this ship. I thought you dead after I learned of Thantus' fate."

"Never the less, the Sangheili will silence us and destroy this ship. It bares our taint."

"That is why we have taken some alive. Their shipmaster especially, their fleets will not dare put their precious shipmaster into harm's way."

Lazarus sighed. "I hope so."

"Do not worry." Cascus put a hand on Lazarus' shoulder. "This ship is ours. The bridge is ours. All we need do is kill the stragglers, and we have it. It will be a proud day when we sail in Doisac's space with our flag held high." Cascus' hand moved down to his belt, and plucked a Spiker off his holster.

Nicole followed his hand to his waist, and she took note of the assorted weapons. Standard armaments. Each soldier seemed to be armed with a projectile weapon. She had seem Plasma rifles, Maulers, even human SMGs, Jiralhanae were never picky. Cascus seemed to have a Mauler, as well as a Spiker, though apparently the Spiker was for Lazarus all along, as Lazarus took it. Cascus had a Gravity Hammer, one of those massive things, on his back. But on the other Jiralhanae, the lower ranks, it was the weapon held on the left side of their waist that caught her attention. Gravity Hammers, like the one Cascus had though it was so much smaller. There was a Jiralhanae at her side, opposite Lazarus, perhaps another to keep her in line. She was eye level with his groin, so she could examine the weapon without being too obvious. It really was just a miniaturized Gravity Hammer, meant for one hand she assumed, though if she carried it, she would probably wield it like a chieftain did: with both hands. But for a Jiralhanae, it must have been their answer to the Sangheili energy sword or the marine's knives: a small, one handed, close quarters weapon. Mass produced and given to everyone. That weapon had taken off Neks' head without much problem. So that meant it was deadly.

"I think your human is scared," Cascus said.

Nicole realized that she had moved close to Lazarus, slipped under his arm and was pressing so close into his side it was as if she was trying to disappear. Lazarus pried her away and threw her to the ground. Slowly, and painfully, she pushed herself back to her feet and stumbled back to his side, like an obedient, beaten dog.

"Where are they? The Sangheili?" Lazarus asked.

"Other end of the ship. Foolish creatures. Slaughter as you like, brother. We have their shipmaster and a few others. That's enough to stay their hand for now."

Cascus turned to tend to other matters on the bridge. Lazarus turned and walked off, now carrying a Spiker in his hand. Nicole stumbled after him.

"Lazarus," she said, gritting her teeth. "Lazarus, what are you doing?"

He didn't answer, and his strides were long and strong, to the point that she just couldn't keep pace with him. She didn't know the layout of the _Intent_, but Lazarus seemed to know what he was doing, where he was going. She caught up to him. She could hear shouts and screams, and smell that weird smell of burnt hair that always lingered after a Spiker was shot. Marines always had arguments whether it was the gun's actual emissions, or if the recoil somehow singed the furry arms of the Jiralhanae who used them. The closer they got, the more bodies. Sangheili and Jiralhanae. But few Jiralhanae than Sangheili. The Jiralhanae were pushing forward.

"Go hide," Lazarus growled. He picked up a hammer, one of the little ones, from the ground.

The Sangheili seemed to have hold-up in a storage area or the _Intent_. Gunshots and shouts and roars. Lazarus walked in it with a roar of his own. He covered ground and charged into a group of Sangheili, smashing and hacking them into puss and pieces. Nicole stayed out. She didn't have a weapon or armor, and she didn't even have a stake in this fight. Besides, there was a good chance she would simply be stepped on by one of the much larger combatants. She stayed outside, holding her chest and controlling her pain with steady, controlled breaths.

More Jiralhanae came to reinforce the numbers in the area. She tried not to draw any attention, but once or twice they came close to crushing her with a passing step. Even then, they didn't notice her, and she began to understand how Unggoy must feel. So small and insignificant and always afraid.

She sighed, peeking around the corner and inside. The storage room was huge and surprisingly well lit. Sangheili at the farther side to the room, and Jiralhanae at the side closer to her. Their backs to her. She could just walk off, but go where? Lazarus, at least, liked her a bit. Saw her as a pet but, well, she would rather live as a pet than nothing at all. As long she stayed, she had a good chance of living, and she could worry about escaping when the time was right.

He wasn't hard to pick out in the battle. His fur was creamy, while the other Jiralhanae all had brown or black fur. Not to mention the fact that he wasn't wearing armor, so his fur was left to glow against the dark interior steel.

She didn't know how long the gunfight had been raging before she came, but it lasted only a few more minutes after. Still, those few minutes were horrible. His time in captivity didn't seem to take a toll on Lazarus. He still had his size, and seemed to have a good amount of strength left, but it was his viciousness. A caged animal set loose on sheep. More Jiralhanae pushed past Nicole. She stumbled back into the corner and pulled her knees to her chest, curling into a small ball.

She wasn't surprised when the Jiralhanae emerged victorious from the battle. Most moved on, continuing through the ship and slaughtering any Sangheili they may have missed, Lazarus amongst them so she was left alone. A few however, emerged from the storage room with Sangheili, unconscious, draped over their shoulders or dragged along by the ankle. Prisoners perhaps, or they sought to keep the meat fresh. What did it matter? They were no better than she was. Prisoners, food, pet, what was the difference?


	7. Chapter 7

**Oh my god I never posted yesterday! I'm sorry about the delay. Just been going through some stuff, outlined in a long rant on my homepage. Well, this is here now. Sorry about he delay. *dodges bullets* Next post will (god willing) be Thursday. This chapter is a bit short, i realize, but i like to divide by sections and pacing, not length so much.**

_Chapter 7_

Nicole smelled smoke. She opened her eyes and lifted her gaze to see that Kig-Yar woman standing in front of her. "Cascus wants you," Tays said. She folded skinny arms over her skinny chest and cocked her head to the side. "Now."

Nicole pushed herself to her feet and began following Tays, coughing at the smell of smoke that lingered in the air. Tays paid her coughs no mind. In fact, she almost seemed to puff more. When she took her last drag, blowing the smoke out of her long beak, Nicole thought she was done. Instead, Tays took a pack of cigarettes out of a side pouch on her waist band and put another in her beak, lighting the tip with the end of the spent one. She dropped the butt to the ground. Nicole avoided stepping on it; it would burn her sole if she did. Nicole actually thought Lazarus' feet for a while. She had seen him completely bare in the cell, and gotten so close any zoologist would be jealous. A Jiralhanae's skin seemed to be so thick that he could probably walk on hot coals and barely feel it. What would a tiny burning ember do? That must have been why Tays seemed so careless with her trash.

"Who are you?" she asked.

"Chur-R-Tays," the Kig-Yar said.

"Nicole. Lieutenant Nicole Kimber."

Tays cawed cruelly. "No, you're the captain's pet. Get used to it. You don't have a name. You don't have a will of your own. You're just his. Lazarus claimed you."

Nicole gritted her teeth. "No, I'm Nicole. Do try and get it right. I realize how difficult that might be for one of the Covenant's lesser species, but do try."

Tays cawed again. This time it was lighter and more chipper, maybe in amusement instead of disgust. "Oh, you poor, stupid human. You'll learn soon enough."

Most believed that, like humans, a Jiralhanae's fur grew white as they gained age. That theory did have merit. Chieftains always seemed to have white pelts, and minors seemed to have black or brown ones. Her thoughts turned grim for a moment. On Earth, there was a market for Brute "furs". White ones were always the most expensive. So, if indeed white fur meant age and rank, where did that place the one called Cascus? Cascus' pelt was as dark as she assumed a Jiralhanae's pelt could be. Like someone had poured oil on him and rubbed it into his fur. He was a stark contrast to the otherwise albino Jiralhanae on the bridge, and Lazarus, whose fur was cream.

Nicole knew how to grovel. Not something she enjoyed, but something she knew how to do. She bent to one knee, holding her side in a wince of pain, and asked, "Noble chieftain, what do you require?"

Cascus laughed loudly. "This one is stupid," he said to Lazarus. "She thinks I'm a chieftain."

Lazarus laughed as well.

"Noble Jiralhanae?" she asked. "What service do you require?"

"Noble? My, she is dense as an Unggoy."

Nicole bit her lip. What game were they playing? She lifted her eyes and looked to Lazarus. He seemed different now. It wasn't just that he was clothed now, wearing armor over his shaggy fur, bits of hair were spilling out of every crack. But beyond aesthetics, he stood tall and proud amongst his people. Not a trace of beaten submission that the Sangheili had no doubt hoped for by locking him up. Amazing how murdering one's oppressors could have that effect.

"What do you want?" she finally snapped.

"Lazarus, does your pet have any experience with medical attention?" Cascus asked.

Lazarus nodded.

"Then take your human to the brig, see if her services are needed. We need at least a few of the prisoners alive."

"Of course, Cascus." Lazarus drew his hammer and nudged Nicole with the head. She stumbled along, the cold metal of the hammer burning her bare back. He was striding along casually, and she had to huff and pant to keep a pace that was ahead of his trampling feet. Finally they reached the brig. There were three Jiralhanae posted at the door. It wasn't immediately realized, but they were quite young. They were short, but of course they towered over Nicole. So it was only when she noticed the rule of fur and how their pelts were brown chocolate did she notice how much taller Lazarus was to them. And their armor didn't really fit right; it was too big and worn loose and baggy. The Jiralhanae must have been hurting in the war, to use such youths as soldiers, they must have been desperate for bodies.

Nicole covered her bare chest as she walked into the brig. Why she should mind being nude in front of a bunch of animal, she wasn't sure. Just an old habit she assumed. She lowered her arms eventually.

"Orff," Lazarus laughed. "I bet you never thought you would see me on this side of the wall, huh?" He grinned widely.

Orff was hurt in the side, holding his chest. Three orange spikes glowed against the thoracic chest plate of his armor, purple blood bubbled up from one of the wounds. He growled at Lazarus, and then Nicole beside him. Lazarus drew his Spiker, lowered the fourth wall, and nudged Nicole inside. He took a medikit off the wall and followed in a moment later.

"You got us Lazarus, you got us good."

Lazarus grinned as he settled down beside Orff and put him on his back. "Nicole, remove the chest plate."

Nicole settled at the opposite side of Orff. Lazarus plucked each of the orange spikes out of the flesh and metal, each accompanied by an odd, 'sploshing' like noise. She carefully pulled the breast plate away, while Lazarus began cutting him out of the skin suit and exposing the wound. Orff stayed still, he even laughed. "What do you plan to do?" he asked. "What can you possibly do to get out of here?"

Lazarus shrugged. "You're poised to glass Doisac. We take this ship, you blow this ship up, and Doisac gets one more sunrise. That's worth all our lives."

It was a field dress. Nothing fancy or pretty, but at the least Nicole managed to stop the bleeding, and they moved on to the next cell, leaving Orff in a bloodied heap. She didn't know who this Sangheili was. His tattered armor marked him as a minor. His left leg was completely destroyed; there was barely a stump a little beneath the bent-back knee. Probably caused by one of the mini-hammers that all the Jiralhanae seemed to be carrying. Fixing this wound would be more difficult. Swallowing, she set down to work.

---

Cascus watched with passive amusement as the red blips appeared on the ship's radar to coincide with the Sangheili fleet's entrance to the sector. "That took long," he muttered.

"Captain, requested transmission from the enemy ship."

Cascus waved his hand, signaling the transmission to be opened. He actually smiled at the sight that flickered on the screen. "Ah, noble Arbiter, it is a pleasure to meet you at last."

There were legends of the Arbiter's deed and triumphs. How he and his Demon single handedly defeated an entire pack of Jiralhanae. How, when he was just a youth, defeated three armed assassins, beating all without receiving a wound in return. The truth was lost to the arcane of the songs the Sangheili sang in praise. They thought him a god, a messiah and prophet who opened their eyes to the heresy. Cascus laughed, because the Sangheili he saw now was no god.

The Arbiter took a breath, staring at the Jiralhanae with fire in his eyes. "Before I blow you out of space, Brute, I want to know, what did you possibly hope to accomplish with this act?"

Cascus threw his head back and laughed.

"Answer me animal! There are four ships surrounding you, there will be a dozen more in a moment. What could you possibly hope to achieve with this?"

Cascus sighed, and stood from the shipmaster's seat. "If you must know, Sangheili, I was attempting to bring this pack back to Doisac before you destroyed it. However, the ship we were taking was damaged. We hoped to get a pick up from a Loyalist vessel, but then your ship came along. So we took it, and find ourselves here. I must say, Arbiter, I'm disappointed. This ship is your pride and joy, and my pack took it with ease. You say you'll call more ships in, I somehow doubt it. This is an embarrassment like no other."

The Arbiter growled. "Then we will simply blow you out space."

Again, it was Cascus who laughed. "Bring in the prisoner," he ordered.

The Arbiter flicked his hands nervously, forming a steeple like he had seen humans do when in deep thought. He sprung out of his chair. "Rtas!"

Rtas looked horrible. For some strange reason they had left his armor on, but perhaps that was so the purple blood showed all the more brilliantly on the polished coating.

"Call off your aim," Cascus said, walking over to Rtas and grabbing him around the throat. He dragged the broken shipmaster along, pulling his Mauler off his belt.

"You've harmed my brother," the Arbiter said. "For that alone your planet will burn."

"Lower your aim," Cascus said, pushing the barrel of the Mauler to Rtas' head. Rtas didn't have the sense of what was happening. He made no reference to the muzzle.

The Arbiter stared, tense and growling with each exhale.

Cascus shook his head. "You brought this upon yourself."

He squeezed the trigger of the Mauler. The sound of gunfire was deafening.


	8. Chapter 8

_Chapter 8_

There was a moment of indescribable dread as the speakers on the bridge transmitted the sound of the gunfire. Rtas Vadum, his brother for so long, through so many battles, through so many campaigns against the heretics and the Brutes and the lies of the Prophets, dead before his eyes. The Arbiter didn't scream. Such a show would be unbecoming of an Arbiter, but even if he wanted to, he wasn't able to scream or show fear and pain as the thunder of the Mauler assaulted his senses. He did mutter a sound similar to a beaten dog, but it paled in comparison to the deep roar.

The Arbiter couldn't find the strength to look away or shut his eyes, as he readied for the image that would haunt his closed eyes for the rest of his life. He had seen the devastation of a Mauler on Earth and the Arc. The Master Chief had no problem using them on the soft flesh targets of Kig-Yar and Unggoy. He was more reserved, and didn't enjoy the horrific wounds they inflicted, even on the enemy. A thousand little pellets tore flesh, shields and armor with sickening indifference. The problem witht he Maulers was the range, and if Rtas was shot from across the room, the Arbiter would have maintained hope. But from such a range there could be no miracle or intervention that would save the shipmaster from the oblivion of death. "Rtas," he muttered.

There was laughter, as deep and loud as the Mauler's shot, as Cascus looked over his weapon. "You know how stupid us Brutes are, seems I loaded this with blanks. Captain, your weapon."

A Jiralhanae in blue armor casually handed off his Spiker. Cascus pushed the bladed tip to Rtas' throat, the oblivion of the barrel againwst the shipmaster's head.

"Stop!" the Arbiter said. "Sub-commander, send out the order. No one is to engage. No weapons lock. No boarding parties."

"But Arbiter."

"Now," he shouted, standing out of the seat and taking a step towards the crewman, who cowered suddenly. "We have lost too many brothers; I will not lose more because of this."

Cascus grinned. "Then let us discuss terms. Simple demands for simple creatures. Safe passage to Doisac, and I will let all the prisoners go."

"I cannot justify that request," the Arbiter said. "It is not in my power. I would need to discuss it with my superiors. I cannot just give you our ship, or leave the lives of my men in your hands."

"You're stalling. Perhaps you hope to somehow take this carrier back. Let me assure you, Arbiter, if you try anything, I will execute every one of the Sangheili on board. Starting with you little pet here."

"And if you try anything stupid, if you think to grow a brain, we will blow you out of space, my brothers be damned."

The feed was cut.

---

Nicole whipped the purple blood out of her eyes and off her face with a towel that Lazarus offered. She couldn't save this Sangheili. Eight orange glowing spikes in his chest, plasma burns on his hands and face, and impact in the stomach that had broken him in half. How he was even alive was a mystery. She had tried to save him, and had failed, and looked to Lazarus with a shake of the head. The Sangheili had imprisoned her, and probably would have executed her, but she felt heaviness in her heart looking at this youthful minor. In the end, he was just one more life she couldn't save.

Lazarus had no such remorse as he took his mini-Gravity Hammer off his belt. He walked forward with the blunt end of the hammer to the ground and the blade up top, holding it out in front of his body. He put a foot on the Sangheili's chest, perhaps to keep him from squirming and resisting, or perhaps for no other reason than to make the wounds hurt just a bit more. Whatever the reason, it was over in a moment. The hammer swung and caved the thick skull of the prisoner. Bits of indigo brains splashed far, some even hitting Nicole's shirt which filled her with revulsion. She vomited.

Lazarus snorted at her, hunched over and bile pouring out of her mouth. She slumped against the wall, holding her stomach and feeling sick and cold. She felt rough, heated leather run down her bare back. "Is something wrong?" Lazarus asked.

She looked back at him, cringing, and stumbling along the wall, out of the cell and avoiding the quickly spreading indigo blood. "What's going to happen to me?" she asked. Shakily, she made her way out of the brig, ignoring the snarls and shrieks she got from the Sangheili prisoners. It wasn't easy, but she managed.

"You will be released with the other prisoners," Lazarus said.

Nicole laughed bitterly. "You think that chieftain will release us?"

"Cascus isn't a chieftain. Thantus was chieftain, but he died before he could pass the mantle."

She wondered about his carrying a Gravity Hammer, not the one handed ones, but the massive ones in all its glory, but she didn't bother. Probably picked it up off the battle field. It's not as if there was a shortage of dead chieftains.

"Don't avoid the question? Do you think Cascus will release them?"

"No. And if he does, I will execute them before the cells are open. But I will see to it that you are released Nicole, in gratitude for Ameday."

"What about Orff?" she asked. "You are going to kill him like the others?"

Lazarus growled. "Nicole, only by my word are you still alive. Don't press me."

Nicole scurried in front of him. "You could let Orff die like that? You could kill all these Sangheili? Lazarus, they aren't all monsters."

Lazarus laughed loudly. She cringed. "You are preaching to me? Pathetically at that. You're a whelp Nicole. And if you keep up this ridiculous whining, I will kill you."

He started forward, and she had to press herself against the wall to avoid a tramping. Sighing and defeated, she just followed at his coattail. She never really understood what his position was in the Jiralhanae hierarchy, but by how he spoke to Cascus and that he had been given a private room, he must have been somewhat high. In the human military, most people were given bunk mates. But his was one of the private ones. Well, she shared it with him, but she hardly counted.

"Stay here," he ordered.

She nodded obediently. She really didn't want to make him mad. She had first curried his favor way back on Remus, when she, he, and Orff had fought the Flood. That favor seemed to be reinforced with her killing Prin. But to the end, he was a Jiralhanae. If he got mad, he would just pop her head off. Maybe he would feel bad afterwards, but she would be dead. She walked over to the bed, and pulled off the bed sheets. Tearing them apart with her teeth, she managed to fashion a wrapping for her chest. It kept her ribs protected, as well as gave her some precious covering from cold. She settled on the bed, minus the covers, and put her head down. She had to sleep.

---

Lazarus made his way to the bridge, where Cascus was still waiting, sitting in the shipmaster's seat. "Brother," he said, bowing to one knee in front of his senior.

"No need for formalities, Lazarus. No sense in it. We all stand as equal nothings." He put an elbow on the arm rest and held his head, staring at the screen in front of him. For their part, the Sangheili hadn't done anything aggressive. They had just sat there, in the middle of space. Ship to ship. The Arbiter hadn't risen any communications and the screen was black, but Cascus just stared.

"We've a plan, right?" Lazarus asked.

Cascus shrugged. "Hopefully we'll reach Doisac before the Arbiter tries something."

Lazarus growled. "Can we trust the Kig-Yar?"

Where was the Kig-Yar anyway? Lazarus looked around. He didn't like having those creature out of his sight.

"Tays is a resource," he said simply. "A resource that we cannot overlook at this time. I do not like associating with the unbelievers any more than you, brother, but she is an ally, for the time at least."

Lazarus shook his head. "You still believe in the promise of the Great Journey? The Forerunners have abandoned us, now when we need them most. There are no believers any more, we are all unfaithful."

Cascus closed his eyes and slumped farther. "Perhaps they are right to abandon us. We failed them. We believed with all our heart, but we were weak when _they_ needed us most."

Lazarus growled. "We were strong. We were pure of heart. And they left us. Cascus, we can no longer blindly put our faith in the stars. We must look at what we are now. And now, we need to be strong more than ever."

Cascus nodded.

"What is the soonest we can jump?" Lazarus asked. "We best return to Doisac as soon as possible. I want to see it one last time, before the Sangheili destroy it."

"This ship is locked down. And Tays' ship is still damaged to the point it cannot fly. We are making the repairs and extracting the codes from the shipmaster. Whichever comes first, we will jump as soon as we can. You, brother, have had dealings with the Sangheili better than any of us. Do you think they will stay their hand as promised?"

"No I do not, not now; they believe will execute the prisoners."

"We will execute the prisoners," Cascus said calmly.

"I realize that, but for now, we are both waiting for the other to make the first move. I do have an idea. I will need authority though."

"I fear you are mad."

"Yes. That tends to happen in this war. But we need time, and for that, you must trust me. Though my methods and deeds may be questionable, I am sure all will go well."

Cascus nodded, and waved a hand.


	9. Chapter 9

_Chapter 9_

The awe of the soldiers was evident in their eyes even under the flight suit helmets. They had served on the same ship as the Arbiter all this time, and yet most likely they had never really seen their shipmaster. His advanced status distanced him from his warriors, how long did he sit on the bridge while his men were out fighting. These soldiers stood at attention, a small squad of ten in black and purple stealth suits, modified for survival in the cold vacuum of space. And for the infiltration they had been given the best active camouflage that the Covenant could produce.

The Arbiter took a deep breath and began. Though the squad had already been debriefed, this was simply for show. "The Brutes have taken our ship, taken our brothers and threatened them with death. For that, they will pay."

There was a roar from the Sangheili.

"You will kill them. You will slaughter them. You will murder every Brute and Brute ally that you come across."

Another roar from the Sangheili.

"You will rescue our brothers from the clutches of the Brutes. You will bring me their chieftain's head."

One final roar.

The Arbiter bowed his head, and thumped his chest. "Live with honor. Fight with honor. And you will never know defeat."

The commander of the ten man squad was Dant Wamik, a seasoned combatant handpicked by the Arbiter for this assignment. "Arbiter," he said. "The intelligence states that there is at least one human and one Kig-Yar aboard the ship."

"Any who are not Sangheili are to be put down. That is an order."

"As is your will, Arbiter," Dant nodded. They roared and snarled now. Arbiter let them get that out of their system. They had been handpicked for stealth and finesse rather than combat abilities. The adrenaline that was already pumping through their veins would not serve them well. They needed to be calm and careful. If the Jiralhanae suspected anything, they would put the hostages down in a single breath. And the Arbiter's orders were clear. No Sangheili lives were to be lost this day.

"Arbiter," said a voice over his radio. "The leader of the Brutes wants to converse about releasing some of their prisoners."

It took the Arbiter five minutes to reach the bridge, moving at a brisk jog. He was anxious and nearly jumping out of his skin with each step. But he needed to be calm, and place a calm face on. Reaching the bridge, he took his chair and gestured for the transmission to open. He took a long, deep breath as the visage of Jiralhanae came onto the screen.

"My council," Cascus said, "has advised me that releasing one of my hostages may be a sign of good faith. Understand, exalted Arbiter, despite how much I would enjoy spilling your kind's foul blood, my primary concern is returning to my planet."

"And how would you like to exchange these prisoners?" the Arbiter asked.

"We will load the prisoner into a Phantom, and send him out."

The Arbiter's eyes narrowed. "Very well," he said. He shut off the com, and then opened a channel to Dant. "The Brutes will send out a ship of our brothers. In that time, that will be your opportunity to slip inside without harm it will be small chance, but you must take it. Ancestors watch over you."

"And you, Arbiter."

---

Orff lifted his head when he heard footsteps and watched Lazarus, carrying his Spiker on his shoulder passively, unlock the cell. "On your feet," the captain ordered. He gave a shake of his Spiker, an act most likely simply to remind Orff that he was armed.

Orff did as he was told. "Execution?"

"No, you're being released. I convinced Cascus that your voice in the Arbiter's ear would serve us better than your screams. Perhaps persuade him to stay calm though from what I have seen of the Arbiter during the war, he is not a passive, level headed creature."

"Sending me in a Phantom, all alone?" Orff guessed.

Lazarus nodded.

Orff sighed. "Death is not the only way to win a war. Tactics work better. But tactics are not your strong point. None of you Jiralhanae have tactics."

Any other creature and Lazarus would have taken that as an insult, but from Orff, it was simply a friend pointing out a flaw. During the war, Lazarus had often told Orff he over thought his movements too much. Friendly banter between brothers.

"To that end, I would like this whole affair to finish with as few casualties as can be had. In that interest, may I give you a minor suggestion? The Arbiter will not let this ship remain in your hands, nor will he allow you to see Doisac. I worry for my brothers, what the Arbiter's foolishness will do. There may be a way to spare casualties on both sides, provided you can fix the Kig-Yar's ship. But." Orff sighed. "You must trust me."

---

"Arbiter, this is the _Higher Will_," came the transmission, broadcasted over all open frequencies, as the human ship entered the sector.

Cascus glared at Lazarus, whose arms were crossed and a small grin on his face. "This is how you repay my trust?" he asked.

"Nicole told me how the Sangheili extracted her, and the casualty that came about."

"Why would you tell them where we are?"

"I contacted the humans, and told them where the Sangheili are. Please brother, you must trust me."

"Trust you!" Cascus roared. "Look at you. You keep a human as a pet, you gave her a name. You convince me to let a Sangheili go. I remember _that _Sangheili, what he did with us during the war. But that does not change the fact that he is a Sangheili."

Lazarus gave a warning growl, taking hold of the Spiker on his belt. The humans and the Sangheili must have opened a private chat, because there was no noise on the bridge save Lazarus and Cascus' low growls and snaps. Then the com on the bridge stuttered, and the screen shifted to show a human. A woman, by the curve of her chest, and a general by her uniform. "Brutes," she hissed.

Cascus turned his attention to the screen, then to Lazarus. "Get your pet," he said low, and Lazarus went off to find Nicole. Then, to the general, he said, "What, human?"

"The Sangheili are staying their fire because you have some of theirs on board your ship. You do not have any humans, so what is stopping us from blowing you out of space?"

"For the same reason you have not attacked us yet, we have Sangheili aboard our ship, and you know that if you lift a hand to us, the Sangheili will open fire on you. But please, go ahead; the chaos will serve us well. With any luck, you will kill each other, and we can cruise along unhindered."

The general stared, but relented, slumping in her shipmaster's chair. The screen shrunk and divided into two as the Arbiter's face appeared, parallel to the human. "Exalted Arbiter, how good of you to join us."

"General McCarthy, as I said, this matter is none of your concern," the Arbiter said.

"You send one of your men down to our planet, murder one of our soldiers, kidnap another, and you think this is not a matter of our concern? You Elites seem to be too incompetent to keep track of your own ships, now the Brutes are in control of one. A ship they could use against us, so how is that not our concern."

Cascus canted his head to the side, looking to the two shipmasters respectively. Perhaps Lazarus was wise in his decision. At the very least, this was entertaining. A good way to pass the time until Tays' ship was repaired or Rtas finally yielded and gave the codes. The bridge door opened and Lazarus, with his human in tow, came in.

Cascus looked to the human. "General, it would seem I do have one of yours to bargain with."

"She shall be released," Lazarus said, stepping forward. "Provided you agree to hold your hand, along with the Sangheili." He could feel Cascus' eyes burning through him, but didn't look to him.

"Name and rank?" the general asked.

"Lieutenant Nicole Kimber," she said. "I have not been brought to harm by the Jiralhanae. I would advise that, as they ask, you hold your hand, along with the Sangheili, and see that this matter is brought to a peaceful resolution."

"How will the lieutenant be released?" the general asked.

"A lone drop ship, sent out with her on board," Cascus said.

McCarthy gritted her teeth, and waved a hand, before cutting the feed. Cascus took that as a yes.

---

The feeling of weightlessness that accompanied zero space was something that the squad of ten Sangheili got used to quickly. It wasn't even that they didn't have the proper training, or the inexperience. They had all been on ships that had been damaged enough that the gravity was suspended. Perhaps it was the vulnerability of leaving the ship out the airlock. On a ship, even without gravity, they were safe with their brothers and comrades. The way they were now, the only safety they had was the ten of them, staying in formation as they glided through the cold airless, weightless abyss. The radars of a space ship were designed to track large, rival vessels. No doubt they would see the massive red blip of the Arbiter's ship, but a small rocket transporter trudging along through the stars, ten Sangheili clinging to it, hopeful that would pass under the radar. The Arbiter was doing his part. Separatist Phantoms, their green a sharp contrast to the single purple on that carried the hostage released, set out. With luck, the Jiralhanae would assume that the Phantoms were to aid in the escort. While they were, they were also meant to confuse the Jiralhanae's radars.

It was quiet, breathless work. There was an undeniable fear amongst the ten man crew. What they did now was the thing of legends. Infiltrating an enemy controlled ship, saving their brothers from the clutches of monsters. Songs would be sang about them if they succeeded, but to fail would bring great shame. The rockets cut out a few meters from the Jiralhanae controlled _Shadow of Intent_. It was Amner Konar who pushed off the rocket transport and swam through the empty dead space towards the hull. He landed with a thud, and the magnet in his left arm's armor firmly planted him to the steel. The Sangheili were all connected by a lanyard, and now that they had an anchor, they all floated towards their brother, each landing with a thud.

"Commander?" Tril Kister, the sub-commander asked.

Dant checked the computer in his helmet. "We are above one of the storage areas. It should be vacant. As well, the ship is still on lock down, with the ancestor's blessing, the Brutes will not be alerted by alarms." He drew his sword and pressed the hot blade into the ship's hull, slowly cutting through the thick steel and opening a small hole. The steel was very, very thick. They removed one layer, and then had to set on removing another, then another. Amner came over and leant his blade.

The other eight Sangheili just stood there, calm and passive, the magnets in their boots keeping them on the hull. Slowly the hole worked larger and larger, and deeper and deeper. And then they breached. The sudden decompression threatened to blow Dant into oblivion. He clawed against the hull and climbed inside. Tril was attached by the magnetic hold, and managed to stay firm. He slowly released and moved in, followed by the eight other Sangheili. The ship's defenses formed a temporary shield over the opening, a barrier not unlike the shield that protected the ship, just on a much smaller scale. Meant to stop decompression and allow the crew to fix the problem.

The team disconnected themselves from each other, and set the supplies in a hidden spot in the storage area. "Orders sir?"

"First we get to the brig, release all prisoners. Then we take the bridge. We do not engage the Jiralhanae. Our primary concern is our brothers."

The Sangheili all nodded in practiced unison. In that same practiced unison, they activated their stealth camouflage and disappeared into a shimmering light. There were no Jiralhanae in the hallway to notice the door open and yet the lack of people coming out. A small blessing. "Sangheili," Dant said. "Move out."


	10. Chapter 10

_Chapter 10_

With his release came the resulting crash of adrenaline, as the thought of death and battle was no longer looming over Orff's head. He slumped back in the chair, ignoring the aching in his stomach, and casually piloted the Phantom into the docking bay of the Arbiter's ship. He didn't like piloting. He of course had training for it, but just didn't like the feel of the ship under him.

His side was aching. Lazarus had said it had to look good, so Orff allowed himself to be shot three times in the chest. For his part at least, Lazarus was careful not to do any serious damage. Serious in the sense that Orff didn't die right there and then, but he felt weak. There was a lot of blood, and he didn't have the time to suture the wound at all. He kept slumping forward in his chair, only to shake awake and look around.

Pulling the ship into the docking bay of the Arbiter's ship, he barely managed the landing, and instead his Phantom skidded and ground loudly along the ground to a halt against the wall. He smashed his head into the controls, and put a hand on his stomach, trying to ignore the ache. Spikers weren't accurate weapons, even at near point blank range. Lazarus may have done his best not to kill Orff, but the sporadic shots didn't necessarily go where he had hoped. He did manage to open the Phantom's side flaps. The team of Sangheili who had been standing at the reader burst aboard the dropship. The Arbiter must have been expecting this to be a trap and warned his men as such. But there were no Jiralhanae, only Orff, barely standing and hobbling out of the pilot's chambers.

"Major?" one of the Sangheili said.

Orff panted and looked to them weakly. "Brothers, thank the ancestors, the Brutes." He gestured to the spikes in his stomach. "Please aid me."

The Sangheili Ultra was careful with what came next, the apparent leader of this squad, walked over and looped one of Orff's arms over his shoulder and neck and helped him off the dropship. Orff cringed. Not just the pain, but the deception to his fellow Sangheili. But this wasn't about honor. He had lost his honor long ago. This was about preventing casualties. Lazarus had saved him, and now he would save Lazarus. He sighed carefully, groaning and holding his side. As much as he could, he needed to draw attention away from the crashed Phantom. If he didn't, this would all be in vain.

---

"Sub-commander."

"Yes commander?"

Dant was sure to keep his voice low. A Jiralhanae's senses were quite acute, and if they were to overhear a conversation, it could lead to the mission's failure. "Take three Sangheili and head to the hangar. Avoid all Jiralhanae patrols and secure a transport. We will be coming in hot. Amner, take the remaining Sangheili and head to the brig. Find our brothers and the shipmaster. Put down whatever resistance you come across."

"And you commander?"

"I will take the bridge, and the chieftain's head."

Amner, under the shield of active camoflague, made a silent wave of his hand and ordered his brother to follow him down. The Jiralhanae patrols seemed to be light, if nonexistent. There were Jiralhanae wandering the halls, but with no visible pattern, and the Sangheili pressed against the walls of the hallway and let the furry brutes pass them.

"Amner," one of the Sangheili asked.

"I am fine brother," he said, feeling light headed. His shimmering form of bent light leaned against the wall and he shook his head. The temptation to put the mongrels down was overwhelming. Their heavy footsteps, their low feral growls, the smell of their hides. They were so close. It was overwhelming. "We must remain vigilante," he finally said. "The mission comes before all else."

---

Tays stared at the Sangheili in the cells with passive interest, her only movement the rise and fall of her shoulder and breast each time she inhaled and exhaled. She had been spending a lot of time, just standing in front of the cells, staring at the Sangheili. There was a pile of cigarette butts at her feet as a testimony to this. It was somehow better than staying with the Jiralhanae. At least these titans were safely locked in a cell.

She heard the door to the brig open and twisted, drawing her plasma pistol and aiming. She did trust her aim. She could pepper shots at least until she had to flee. Her finger touched the trigger, but she held off pressure just a moment, recognizing who was standing there in the doorway. "What do you want, _captain_?"

Lazarus growled, his bulk shuffling inside. He took his Spiker off his belt but held it at his hip. "Stupid Kig-Yar, we should slit your throat and be done with it."

Tays gave a hissing caw as she squeezed the trigger of her pistol, the green heat glowing and swelling out of the muzzle. "And you, captain, you would still be in this cells if not for my bountiful nature." She puffed her cigarette. "Have you any idea how much wrath the Sangheili will bring down upon me for simply talking to _your_ kind? Let alone delivering the pack that took their flagship."

"We will pay you well," Lazarus said. "That is your only concern. And if the Sangheili pay you a higher bounty, you will turn to them. Which is why I should execute you here and now."

Tays disarmed her pistol and holstered it. She had been using her left hand. Her right hand had slipped behind her back and taken hold of the energy cutlass. Just as she had hoped, Lazarus' attention had been on the brilliant green glow rather than her other hand. "If the Sangheili would show me leniency I would release everyone from this cell, just so they could kill you. But the simple fact is that the Sangheili view me as an enemy, as do my own people. But you Jiralhanae..." She walked over and smiled, brushing a clawed hand over the chest plate of the captain. "You aid me, and I aid you. Even before this incident, if the Sangheili had known what I have done they would not hesitate to twist off my head. But you Jiralhanae pay up front, and don't care about what crimes stain my hand. Which is why I continue aiding Cascus. But if you do indeed wish to bring about his wraith and kill the only one who can properly pilot a ship, go ahead." She spread her arms. "You're so big and strong, what could I possibly do to defend myself against you?"

Lazarus holstered his weapon but he grabbed her suddenly around the thin neck and brought her eye level. Tays was scared, and showed it by clawing and kicking at his fingers, squeaking pathetically. "Yes, I could break you in half without trouble. But for now, like you said, you are useful. Try anything and I'll kill you, Cascus be damned."

His grip made her wheeze and tears swell in her eyes. Why, oh why couldn't they handle her with care? She just wasn't built for these little games that Jiralhanae insisted on playing. She clawed in vain at his rough hand, growling. Lazarus, in return, growled once under his breath, blowing heat across her face and making her cringe. Then dropped her. She fell on her rump, and rubbed it. Lazarus walked out of the brig.

Tays spent a while rubbing her throat. There were snickers in the cell beside her. She gave a hiss to silence the Sangheili, but he just stared and chuckled under his breath. Casually, she walked to the cell, and traced a finger over the controls. The Sangheili walked over, confused what she was doing. "You should know," she said. "This is one of your features. The red button releases a nerve gas that will kill you in a matter of minutes. The green, a sedative. Now which should I pick?

"Stupid creatures," she said to her captive audience. "So blindly following Truth. I would expect as much from the Jiralhanae, they aren't intelligent creatures, but you should be smarter. But no, you blindly followed and you murdered and pillaged, but you still think you are the better creature. You stand high on a pedestal."

She flicked her spent cigarette butt at the forth wall and it instantly burned to ashes. Her finger touched the red button, applied pressure, and then listened to the hissing of the vents above the cell before her. Then the Sangheili roared and punched the fourth wall, fighting and clawing desperately. Tays lit another cigarette, smiling under her breath.

When she stepped out of the brig and into the hall, she felt a sticky warm goo bubble up between her toes. Looking down she saw blood and to her left, Lazarus slumped to the ground with a hole in his stomach. Fearful, she backed away, holding her pistol and took a deep inhale of smoke. She blew the smoke out through her snout, and fired a flurry of green orbs at where the smoke distorted from contact with cloaked armor and flesh. The Sangheili roared as the hot plasma burned his skin.

"Cascus," Tays said into her radio, trying to back away. She felt a firm blow on the back of her head. It was staggering. How she wasn't killed was beyond her. The Sangheili must have needed her for something, so her assailant pulled his punch. Indeed, she felt a grip around her throat, and herself lift, but still not a finishing blow. It was like when Lazarus picked her up. Death wasn't the goal, it was simple intimidating.

Beyond the pounding in her head, there was Cascus' bellow. Jiralhanae never did seem to know how to control their voice.

"What Tays?" Cascus demanded.

Tays swallowed, chewing nervously at her cigarette, as the invisible Sangheili slowly squeezed, wanting her to talk. If the Sangheili in the brig were freed, they could take the ship. If they took the ship, she would be arrested and executed before they even began to look into her history. However, if Cascus were able to repel the attack, she would not only survive but be viewed as a hero. Slowly, she took the energy cutlass from her belt and into her radio, she said, "The brig!"

The Sangheili roared, clenching his fist and punching forward. Tays pushed the cutlass forward to meet it. The sharp end cut easily into the Sangheili's knuckles. The blunt end of the dagger went through her palm. In unison, the Sangheili and the Kig-Yar screamed in pain.

Tays had dropped her plasma pistol and lost her cutlass. She pulled the lit cigarette from her mouth and jammed it between the Sangheili's fingers. Whether from the pain or the shock, the Sangheili dropped her. She hit the ground hard and tried to stumble away, but another cloaked Sangheili stepped in her path and she crashed into him.

On her back, on the ground, Tays groped for her plasma pistol. She found it and managed one shot before the Sangheili's foot fell and crushed the plasma pistol and her hand. Both broke nearly instantly.


	11. Chapter 11

**Special thanks to Luke-1539 for betaing. You made this chapter great.**

_Chapter 11_

The Sangheili took Tays around the neck and slowly lifted his foot off her hand, then lifted her to his eyes.

"We don't have time for this," a Sangheili hissed to her side. "Kill it."

The Sangheili that held her looked around. He looked to Tays, before pushing her against the controls at the side of the brig door. "Open it," he said. "And I'll kill you quick."

Tays closed her eyes and tried to remember the code to get in the door. She wasn't even trying to stall for time, she honestly couldn't remember. Crying slightly, she pushed a shaking claw into the pad.

There was a roar, and an explosive impact hit the Sangheili holding her square in the chest, forcing him backwards. Then another shot staggered him, and Tays managed to squirm out of his grip. On the third impact, his armor chest plate shattered and the weak skin suit beneath melted away, exposing the flesh underneath. The forth explosive eviscerated the Sangheili, spurts of indigo organs oozing out of the hole. The corpse tumbled and fell, and Tays rolled to her side to avoid being crushed in the most embarrassing ways. The Jiralhanae with a Brute Shot down the hall gave a triumphant roar, before blasting the other two Sangheili, who turned and fled, disappearing into the brig. The door sealed behind them.

The Jiralhanae, riled up by blood-lust threw himself against the brig door, but it was well reinforced to keep prisoners in as well as others out. That didn't stop him. He punched and fought against the door, smashing into it and roaring for it to open.

Tays crawled along the floor, her broken hand close to her chest. She barely heard Cascus, despite the deepness of his voice. "Get the wounded to the medical bay," Cascus said. He looked to the brig door. "Seal this, no one gets out. Full sweep of the ship. Find the other Sangheili and cut their throats."

That zealous one who was smashing the door stopped a moment. He gave one last kick to it, before turning to Cascus. "Yes sir."

Tays cawed, trying to get Cascus' or any of the Jiralhanae's attention. More were coming quickly, sniffing the air and swiping every shadow. Two hoisted Lazarus up, resting an arm over each shoulder and carried him away. The others went off, sniffing the air and looking for the slight bend of light that would imply a cloaked Sangheili was near. Tays looked at her hand, groaning. It was completely broken and burned from the crushed plasma pistol's battery leaking heat onto her skin. By now, the best course of action seemed to be amputation. She didn't like that though and cawed again, wanting Cascus to take notice.

She gave a frightened squeal when Cascus looked down and reached for her. He forcefully picked her up and lifted her to his eyes. She lifted her good hand, giving a nervous wave. "Get this one to the medical bay as well," he ordered. He passed her limp body to a minor, who took her even more carelessly than Cascus. Cascus turned, hefting his hammer and starting down the hallway.

He could barely scent the Sangheili; they must have been hiding their odor somehow, with an armor augmentation or something else. It mattered not. There were three Jiralhanae bodyguards behind him, each carrying a Mauler, a hammer, grenades and a spare blade on their back. Actually the blades were pillaged from the humans. There was no end to the fascination Jiralhanae had for machetes.

It was arguable who had the advantage in a ship's corridors: Sangheili or Jiralhanae. Sangheili had the agility and speed, Jiralhanae had the endurance and the strength. Cascus wasn't willing to risk anything, and kept both eyes sharp and focused.

A blue, glowing sphere burst from the shadows directly at Cascus, but a swift swing of his hammer not only sent the plasma grenade away, but exposed the Sangheili who had prior been cloaked. Cascus snarled, stepping forward and swinging his hammer, but the Sangheili was indeed faster than the swing and ducked beneath it, hitting the ground flat. He rolled onto his back, drawing his Plasma rifle and spraying a sudden burst of hot blue that burned Cascus' armor. Cascus stumbled back. He managed to shift his weight and swing the hammer again, but the Sangheili proved the more agile of the two and managed to roll forward, avoiding the hammer's head. The impact did send him pushing away into the wall.

What the Sangheili didn't expect was Cascus' speed, as he abandoned the hammer and simply leaped forward. One of his feet landed on the Sangheili's arm and crushed it without much trouble, causing the Sangheili to roar out in pain. The other foot abruptly kicked his mandibles, knocking his head to the side at a painful angle, possibly breaking his neck. Cascus was not one to leave such matters up to the will of the ancestors. He turned and retrieved his hammer, before shifting it, so the blade was the side of impact. He swung the hammer down and the sharp blade broke through the Sangheili's armored chest.

Cascus pulled his weapon out and continued on. "This one will serve as meat for the pack," he said as he stepped over the body. "One of you take it to the mess, the others, come."

---

Nicole's arm (she hadn't even realized her wrist was sprained) and ribs were taped and she was given painkillers and new clothes. They abandoned proper procedure, which was to run a variety of tests and a seven hour observation period of observation, and simply ordered her to the bridge.

"General," she said, saluting.

"Lieutenant, thank God that you're alright. After you were kidnapped from Earth we feared the worse. We received an anonymous transmission on a neutral frequency, leading us here." She turned towards the window, and the two ships floating along. "If we knew _they _were here, we would have brought a fleet."

"No, it's better only us. The fewer that know what is going on the better." She sighed. "Another cover up. Great."

"Lieutenant, the Elites came to Earth. Two men, good men, have been killed. You were kidnapped."

"We have done crimes to the Elites, and they have covered it up. This is about peace."

McCarthy sighed. "What are we looking at?"

"The _Shadow of Intent _has been taken over by a pack of Jiralhanae, probably fifty or so from what I've seen. They have Sangheili prisoners, probably fifteen or twenty, held in the brig. They're most valuable hostage is the shipmaster, Rtas Vadum. He is why the Arbiter has held off the attack."

"Then what would you suggest we do?"

Nicole sighed. "We wait and see who shoots first." Then she paused, and thought to herself. "My children and my sister?" she asked sharply. "Are they alright?"

---

Tays never lost consciousness. It wasn't that she didn't want to just pass out, but she didn't trust the Jiralhanae. At least if she was awake, she could scream loud enough to hopefully reach Cascus' ear. There were no Jiralhanae or Sangheili medics. Sangheili had some ridiculous superstition and Jiralhanae simply didn't like helping people, so apparently the role of ship doctor fell to a squat little Unggoy. She wasn't sure if he was serving under the Sangheili when the Jiralhanae attacked, or if he was under Cascus all along. It didn't really matter. "Be careful," she hissed.

The Unggoy, by his eyes he was absolutely terrified by his situation which implied that he was under the Sangheili and a prisoner now, nodded quickly. He brought the loose putty that would serve as the cast for her hand, and carefully worked it. There was nothing left in her hand, only a loose mound of skin that had somehow not popped completely. She would need to wait for the bones to reform. Then the cast would be removed and the bones could be set. Then more healing. She would be lucky if she could ever hold a weapon again. There was an irritating noise in the air, and she looked at the Unggoy to see him chewing on his methane respirator. She swung her good hand, cracking him hard over the head.

The Unggoy fell. Tays took a moment to look at the putty that was quickly drying. She leapt off the bed and left the medical bay.

The Unggoy rose, shaking his head, trying to get rid of the stars that were swarming his vision. The door opened and Cascus, now with a few fresh wounds, came inside. The Unggoy shifted to a strict salute. "How is Lazarus?" Cascus asked.

The Unggoy walked over to the Jiralhanae who was lying in the bed. "Bad, bad wound, sir," the Unggoy said. "Badly hurt, but will live."

"Wake him up," Cascus ordered.

"S-sir. C-could be bad."

"Wake him."

The Unggoy gnawed heavily on his respirator as he climbed up onto the bed and stood beside Lazarus. He plucked an over-sized syringe off the table and placed it over the Jiralhanae's chest. Looking at Cascus one more time, he closed his eyes and jammed the needle into the Jiralhanae's breast. A shot of adrenaline was a human method, one usually used on the field. This particular needle was meant for a Sangheili, which meant it was huge in the squat Unggoy's hands, but he did manage. And it seemed to work, since Lazarus woke with a roar.

He growled, looking around as the Unggoy, then at Cascus. His stomach was heavily taped, the white bandages mixing fairly well with the cream colored coat. Blotches of crimson were visible, spreading along the bandage.

"The Sangheili were careless, it would seem," Cascus said.

Lazarus groaned, holding his stomach. "Sangheili?"

"Some are still locked in the brig with their brethren. It is under heavy guard, and all exits are sealed. We believe we've killed any who are left."

Lazarus growled. "The shipmaster?"

"Still under guard. He won't break and give us the codes. We'll put him down soon. We've crippled this ship, and used some of the parts to repair the Tays' ship. It should be able to fly if we have to."

"We have to," Lazarus said. "Get everyone aboard the Kig-Yar's ship and prepare for a jump. The Sangheili will be upon us in moments."

Cascus shook his head. "To jump, we would have to disengage the _Intent_. If we disengage the _Intent, _they are going to shoot us down, the Sangheili and the humans."

"Get everyone aboard the _Unending Devotion_. I have work to do. Be prepared to jump the very moment that I am aboard."

Cascus growled, but nodded, and listened to the younger male.


	12. Chapter 12

**Special thank you to Luke for looking this over. You helped me so much.**

_Chapter 12_

Rtas' skin burned. They had cut him for every time he didn't answer a question, which meant his body was a canvas of bleeding gashes and wounds. One of his mandibles felt dislocated, the other hanging by a few bones, but he could still bite down hard. His teeth were sharp after all. Several of his ribs had been broken during his routine beatings. Twitching his legs, he suspected he could still walk, and his hands could clench into fists.

Save when he was being interrogated, they kept him in a dark room, bound. Just outside the walls and door he could hear scuffling and moving more than usual, and guessed an evacuation. Clenching his hands, he began fiddling with the plasma bounds. In his youth he had practiced getting out of them, but that was long ago, and he hadn't been so badly hurt or in the dark. Still, he struggled with them as best he could.

When the door to his room opened and one of the younger Jiralhanae came in, brandishing a Spiker, he stopped visibly struggling, and instead just fiddled and rolled his wrists. The Jiralhanae snorted at the shipmaster, and pushed his weapon to him. The tip of the blade traced Rtas' bare chest, over the pectoral and under the arm. Rtas growled lowly. "Going to kill me?" he asked.

The Jiralhanae turned the weapon to the side, so the inside of the blade stroked Rtas' cheek and mandibles, the muzzle at his eyes. He growled, suddenly twisting his head to the side and lunging forward. He clamped his sharp teeth down on the leathery finger of the Jiralhanae, clenching as hard as he could. The Jiralhanae roared in anger and pulled back, but more of his skin was caught on the sharp teeth and ripped away. Rtas managed to slip his left hand out of the binds and grabbed hold of the Jiralhanae, pulling him close. He fumbled for the Spiker as the Jiralhanae, for a moment stunned by the resistance, groaned and fought. Finding the Jiralhane's hand he brought it, and the Spiker by extension, up to the Jiralhanae's throat, and pushed, slicing through the thick fur and cutting open the skin.

---

The _Shadow of Intent_ was evacuated fairly quickly. The Jiralhanae were all too eager to get off of a ship so heavily tainted by Sangheili presence. They left the brig tightly sealed, the prisoners as well as the intruders inside. An explosive was left at the door as a surprise if the Sangheili did manage to get out. As much as Lazarus wanted to slaughter the Sangheili, it just wasn't applicable.

For a while longer, he held back from Tays' ship. He waited patiently on the _Shadow of Intent's_ bridge, alone, sitting comfortably in the shipmaster's chair. If the controls weren't locked down, he would probably have sent the ship speeding towards the Sangheili vessel as a distraction while Cascus and the pack fled. Of course, he would lose his chance to escape, but by now what did that really matter? As is, he would just have to rely on Orff.

He stared at the ships in the distance for a while, a good range away. The Sangheili one that had Orff. The human one that had Nicole. He sighed a moment, looking over his Spiker passively, the mini-hammer in his other hand. Proud Jiralhanae weapons. Not as sleek and flashy as the Sangheili's choice, but beautiful weapons none the less. They would serve him well.

When the door behind him opened, he rose from the shipmaster's chair. He sniffed the air, and scented the Sangheili behind him, recognizing it. "I was wondering when you would escape," he said.

Rtas Vadum stood naked in the door way, and casually moved over the bridge. Despite the disgust he felt for the weapon, it was something. Something that could kill, though he was disappointed to find most of the Jiralhanae had already fled. He cut the throat of a few stragglers, but his main destination was the bridge. "I didn't escape, I was never captured. Arrogant Brutes, you honestly believed that you could keep me here if that weren't my will?" Rtas lifted to the Spiker. "Turn and face your death. I grant you the honor of dying by the hand of a shipmaster, just as I granted your uncle."

Lazarus pulled the spike grenade off his belt, though the gesture was hidden by his bulk. He turned, and threw the grenade in a large arc. It stuck into the roof of the bridge, and exploded suddenly, showering the area with orange hot spikes. Rtas dived to his side to avoid the volley, and lifted his Spiker, but instead braced himself for impact. Lazarus had ripped awaythe shipmaster's chair and threw it with all his might. Rtas rolled to his side. A simple act, but with his weakened body, he crumbled slightly, then to one knee.

Rtas fired a few shots, the orange spikes cutting through the shields of Lazarus' armor and embedding themselves in the blue shell. Lazarus lifted his arm in front of his face, while his other hand drew his hammer and he charged. Rtas lifted the Spiker's blade to parry. The weapons locked and Rtas shifted the weapons to the side. Lazarus' hammer crashed through a computer, and he fell off balance, until Rtas' foot smashed into his stomach and he fell back. A hard punch to the jaw sent Lazarus twisting and retching, while the stiff kick to his knee brought him down hard. Lazarus felt the sharp metal of the Spiker's bayonet cut into his shoulder.

He reached behind him and groped for his knife. Finding the handle he slashed forward, but his wrist was caught. Rtas pulled the Spiker's blade out of his shoulder and instead swung down onto Lazarus' arm. There was a strange sensation just above his wrist, sort of like a breath of air burrowing under the fur of his forearm. Then he felt weak, and he realized that Rtas had cut off his left hand. With a roar, Lazarus smashed his helmeted head forward into Rtas' bare stomach, staggering the shipmaster back, then collapsed flat onto the ground.

Lazarus cradled what was left of his arm, hot blood oozing out of the stump. He felt weak instantly. Rtas had been beaten and starved all this time. The head butt had hurt Rtas, perhaps broken something in his already beaten body. But Lazarus knew that this amputation was the more grievous of wounds. He needed to end this quickly. He stalked over, and smashed his foot onto Rtas' chest, grinding the heel down. Rtas groaned a moment, then took the foot, and pulled it out from under Lazarus, who fell hard on his back. Stump clenched close to his chest, spurting blood wildly, Lazarus crawled out of the bridge. Rtas crawled along the ground, stretching forward for the Spiker. Long fingers wrapped around the handle and he twisted. He squeezed off a few shots, but Lazarus had already gotten off the bridge. There was a trail of blood that he could easily follow, but what was the point? It was like hunting a cockroach, as the humans would say. "Go ahead, run. Tuck tail and scream and speak of how you survived this day. For all the good it will do you. Pathetic mongrels."

Rtas walked to the controls, ignoring the stench of Jiralhanae. He opened a channel. "Brother," he said, facing the Arbiter.

The Arbiter's eyes spoke of great relief, though his face was solid. "I am glad to see you have endured the Brutes."

Rtas nodded. "I trust the Jiralhanae ship is in your line of sights?"

"Yes brother."

"And I trust the operation went as planned?"

The Arbiter smiled. "Yes brother."

"Then prepare to purge the galaxy of this Jiralhanae taint."

There was a roar aboard the Arbiter's ship. The crew lifted arms and filled their lungs with vigor as the ship was targeted. A moment later, everything went dead. Targeting system, navigation, even the emergency power. "Did they attack us!" the Arbiter demanded. "The Brutes? The humans?"

"No," a voice on the bridge said. "Everything is off line. An EMP most likely. Everything should return in a moment."

The Arbiter looked to the Jiralhanae ship. There wasno way to order the humans to fire. Rtas could not disengage the ship's lock-down quick enough to open fire. "Do we have any more ships by Doisac?"

"No sir, they pulled out cycles ago," said one of the bridge crew.

The Arbiter growled. "We have our brothers to think about. We can always finish the Brutes off later."

---

The stump was tied off and bandaged. Even the rudimentary medical knowledge that the Jiralhanae soldiers boasted knew that pressure on the wound would eventually stop the bleeding. The stump was tied off and cauterized, and a large armor cast was placed over it to protect it. Groaning and sore and tired, Lazarus rose off the bed. This was his first time on the _Unending Devotion_, but easy enough he found the bridge, and Cascus.

"In the end, your judgment was correct. The Sangheili could be trusted."

Lazarus nodded at Cascus' statement. "Again, I am in Orff's debt. We all are. The Arbiter would have blown us to pieces. And had Orff ordered they would have swept his Phantom for a bomb. But he kept suspicion away. For that, we are all in his debt."

Cascus growled. "He is a Sangheili, to the end. Never forget that."

"And we draw breath now, we have a ship now, because of him. Never forget that."

Cascus slouched heavier in the co-pilot's chair, the Kig-Yar had the shipmaster's chair which Lazarus did find odd. Cascus leaned his head in his hand. He stared at Lazarus. How a creature like Lazarus was still alive was nothing short of a testimony to Jiralhanae will and grit. All he had endured. Not the physical abuse at the hands of the Sangheili. All Jiralhanae had known that pain. The wound in his gut, the loss of his hand, they were nothing. But his son. Cascus did silently wonder what had happened to Ameday but he dare not ask. He could scent the pain, that was all he needed to know.

"Your father, I knew him well."

"As did I," Lazarus growled.

"No, you lost him when you were young. We grew up together. Your grandfather, Critius. He was the chieftain before Sornelus. I was orphaned. My family slaughtered by the Sangheili, or so I was always told, I honestly don't know. Critius took me as a son, and Sornelus took me as a brother. Thantus and Sornelus, they loved each other dearly. Thantus' task, it pained him, but he did what was best for the pack. Always what was best for the pack. And today, you have spat on your ancestors. You have taken the aid of a Sangheili. You spared the life of a human. All for the good for the pack. Your father would be so proud of you."

Lazarus allowed himself a smile. "Thank you."

"This pack needs a chieftain. A proper chieftain. I cannot serve, I am not worthy. I've not the will or the mind or the soul to carry this pack. Only you."

Lazarus shook his head. "_I_ am unworthy."

But the older male was firm in his decision. Lazarus growled, taking the hammer. Chieftain? Could he serve as a chieftain?

"Coming out of slipspace, brace yourselves," said the ship's pilot.

Lazarus looked behind him, at the shipmaster chair. The Kig-Yar, Chur-R-Tays, gave a hissing sort of noise, obviously not enjoying the thought of being sat on by a very large Jiralhanae. Her hand was still covered tightly in the armored cast. He growled, having no interest in the seat really, and simply stood firm as the white lights of slipspace melted away. Tays muttered something that might have been a slur or gratitude, but Lazarus didn't care.

It would be a long time before Lazarus figured everything out. There were so many things that didn't, and wouldn't, make sense for a long time. But eventually, through espionage, intimidation, extraction, and logic, he would learn everything.

The largest, most burning questions, was why the _Shadow of Intent_ wouldn't take part in the glassing of Doisac. Why wasn't the Arbiter there to lead the charge. The answer was simple. The entire operation's planning had been done in secret. No Sangheili or human was told that didn't need to know. The _Shadow of Intent_, the Sangheili were well aware that that ship was being watched by agents. If it suddenly made a suspicious jump, the Jiralhanae would get suspicious, and perhaps anticipate the inevitable attack. So it patrolled as usual. The Arbiter continued to make appearances, as did Lord Hood.

Instead, it was a fleet of random ships that were used. The ships crashed straight through the barricade the Jiralhanae had built and attacked the surface, and started burning it to glass. Additional fleets jumped into the sector and attacked the now confused Jiralhanae, overwhelming them and destroying them one by one by superior numbers. Orff and Nicole didn't warn him simply because they didn't know. Their superiors had rightly guessed where their loyalties stood, and so they were never told of the operation.

For a long time, the Jiralhanae simply stared at their planet. Doisac's surface burned to ash and still smoldering even after all this time. It had been destroyed almost a week prior. Survivors of the massacre, what few were left, would later account that the entire battle had last a mere ten hours.

For a long time, none of the Jiralhanae moved. If the Sangheili ships were still in the sector, they could easily have swooped in and massacred them. But the Sangheili, their deed done, had long left.

"Cascus," said one of the Jiralhanae of thfe bridge. "A message."

Cascus just sat in the chair, mouth wide and staring at the smoldering mass that had once been his planet. Even Tays just stared, jaws a bit open, though her cigarette still fumed in her mouth. Lazarus spoke first; "Open transmission."

The Jiralhanae nodded and did, but soon enough. "Captain, another transmission. Scratch that, two more. Four."

Tiny blips on the radar marked each arrival of Jiralhanae ships. Most likely they had been monitoring the sector, and seeing the an unidentified ship enter, hoped it was a Sangheili or human, one to attack and kill.

The voices were many. Young, by their deepness. And scared. Though Lazarus couldn't blame them. He looked to Cascus, but Cascus sat stoic. "Bring the shipmasters onto the screen," he ordered.

Yes, the majority of the…twelve fellow shipmasters, they were young. So young, he guessed only four were proper mature. Lazarus, with his wounds and broken body, stood tall and proud, and they returned with gazes of awe. One finally spoke out. "Chieftain?"

Lazarus looked to Cascus, who had managed enough strength to give a weak nod. "Yes. I am Chieftain Lazarus." His grip tightened. His adrenaline started to flow. He filled his chest with a deep breath. "Grandson of the great Critius, who fought the Sangheili all his life, even when we were bound by the noble Hierarch's will. Who died to his son, Sornelus. I am Chieftain Lazarus, son of Sornelus, who lived with honor and valor, and brought death upon the heretics all his life. Who died to his brother, Thantus, who lead my pack through the darkest times and our greatest defeat and was killed by Sangheili. I am Chieftain Lazarus father to Ameday, to Guyus, to Vallus, all taken before their time."

There were murmurs of awe, but most just stood as speechless.

"Since before our father's times, the Sangheili feared us. So they schemed, and they planned, and they plotted. Still, we were patient and we waited, because we knew us their betters. And when we realized that they would never offer a standing that we deserved, we took what was ours. And like the heretic cowards they are, they clung to another. They begged another group of cowards and where taken in. And still we fought against them.

"Now our planet lays in ruins. They destroyed us. They thought they could break us. They were wrong. Now is the time to mourn our fallen. Now is the time to wait. For we shall wise up and crush them. And if human rise to stop us, we shall crush human. And if Forerunner rise to stop us, we shall crush Forerunner. The Sangheili shall look upon the devastation we will bring, and they will beg for mercy. They will be granted none. They will ask us when our vengeance will be sated and we shall tell them: 'only when no Sangheili brick lays upon another shall we stop."


	13. Commentary

Commentary

As usual, I'll just start this with an explanation of my time line.

Sympathy for the Devil takes place some time before Halo 1, one or two decades.

In a Mad World takes place during Halo 2, at the time of the Schism's start.

Hope takes place one month after the end of the third game.

Kingdom Come takes place two years after the end of Halo 3.

Don't Ask, Don't Tell takes place roughly two months before VVV. It takes place during the leave before Prin goes on his final mission.

Veni, Vidi, Vici takes place a year after Kingdom Come.

And this, Will be Done takes place a two to four months after VVV.

Alright, so, to get down to business, this is the commentary for WbD. I always have a plan for stories. The question is if that idea pans out into an actual fic, or if I just end up scraping the idea. Actually, after VVV, I did plan the idea for the next sequel. Which was going to start with Nicole being arrested for the murder of Prin. I like the idea of action having consequences, so I did want her to have to pay for that decision. It was everything after that that I had trouble with. The main idea, and the idea that I was going to run with for quite a while, was that a group of Sangheili terrorists were targeting humans. These Sangheili were going to have found out about the cover up in Kingdom Come. They were then going to be specifically targeting the humans involved in the cover up, going up to Lord Hood, and Nicole was going to be targeted. The beginning chapters were going to play out like they did, only the entire extraction was a set up, meant to remove Nicole from harm. The main story was going to focus on Orff slowly learning that Nicole was involved in the cover up of that heinous crime, while trying to stop the terrorists. Nicole, meanwhile, was going to be in the cell with Lazarus for the majority of the story. So it was going to unfold with Orff investigating and Nicole and Lazarus' relationship growing.

I scraped this because the idea of this huge, Sangheili conspiracy sort of didn't work with how the stuff has been going. I don't know, I'm trying to focus on more small scale, character stuff, more than anything. I know, I just glassed Doisac, but the focus of this wasn't on the battle. The battle happened off camera. The focus on this is Lazarus, and the sequel will focus on the fall out of this devastating offensive.

So not having that idea, but again having the rough idea of the first four or five chapters, which was Nicole's kidnapping and her with Lazarus, I put the story on hold. It was about this time, a bit after maybe, that I started talking to Luke-1539. He PMed me, asking me to R&R his stories. Normally I don't do that, but I figured, just this once, why not? Luke seemed like a very nice guy, and he had several one-shots which would be easy reading. Luke and I very quickly became good friends, and I started to talk to him about my ideas after he read up on my stuff.

Luke and I brainstormed a great deal. And it was really Luke that inspired me to write this at all. I can honestly say that if not for Luke this never would have been made. I owe him so much for the help, the support, and the motivation. I want to take this time to thank him for beta reading the final two chapters. He helped me so much.

As far as the characters go, I've never really been able to delve deeply into Orff. And I had one or two complaints that people don't understand why he is helping Lazarus like this. I really have to write an interquel, taking place between SftD and the first Halo game. It would really explain why Orff and Lazarus are so close, and why they would both be willing to go against their species in the interest of the other. For the record, Orff would not risk his life for any old Jiralhanae, and Lazarus would not for a Sangheili. But it is clear that they value each other as family and brothers. I've tried to imply what is happening and show it, but I just haven't given the right impact for it to be clear.

Lazarus I love to write. I really do. I think he's an interesting character. As is Nicole. As far as my introduction as Tays, Luke and I cooperatively made her. We've had discussions about her regularly. I see her as a very in the now character, which is why, for the most part, there has been nothing on her past life in this fic. She simply doesn't care. She doesn't dwell and on what she did or what has been done.

Glassing Doisac. That was one of the closest guarded secrets that I have had. And a lot of the people who I talk to have suggested glassing it in Que Sera, Sera, or talked about how they know I could never do that because of my clear affinity for Jiralhanae. And I kind of had to smile and not let anything slide. On MSN and X-Box Live people have talked to me about the fic, and I just couldn't let anything slide. I like tragic characters, and like Jiralhanae or hate Jiralhanae, Lazarus is very tragic. I feel bad glassing it, I'm probably the writer who loves Jiralhanae the most and I think I might be the only one to actually explicitly have it destroyed. Jiralhanae are an endangered species now, having been dealt the blow that humanity feared so much.

So what does that spell for the future? Again, I've got tons and tons of ideas, but I just don't know when or how to write them. So I'm probably going to take a hiatus. Maybe for good. Or maybe when ODST comes out, I'll be more up to write.

Really haven't got more to say in terms of this commentary. To a big extent, this is purely to explain Luke's involvement. In this fic. And I'm totally brain dead at the moment, so I just can't think of anything to put here. Maybe I'll update this later.

For now, thank you everyone for reading and reviewing. It means a lot to me.

-Exilo


End file.
